The Road to Sunrise
by Shtuff
Summary: AU Final Fantasy VII. The people are sick, the planet is dying. A group of rebels make a stand as two weary refugees drag themselves into Midgar. Let the end begin.
1. I: In Reach of Freedom

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII. If I did, the story would have gone like this. **  
**

**AN: **Well, it's back. And this time I'm going to try to get further on it. -grins sheepishly-

This story is AU, very AU, so expect lots of twisting of the original plot and other such surprises. Constructive criticism is welcome and will always be taken to heart. Enjoy the story.

* * *

Here, the desert stretched on forever—an endless sea of sand, rippling in time to the lonely wind. The sun beat down mercilessly, its harsh glare reflecting off the sand and making it near impossible to see. This place had been beautiful once. Rivers and lakes had dotted the landscape, blue gems in an endless sea of green. But its beauty was stolen by war and greed, leaving only scarred surfaces and empty spaces behind. 

Not many ventured into this wasteland. It was rumored that wild animals roamed its open dunes, preying on unsuspecting travelers. Bandits presented another threat, hiding behind large boulders to ambush those passing by. The air was still and silent—not a living thing for miles on end—but then, a sound drifted from the west and increased in intensity.

It was a dull roar, drawing steadily closer—the unmistakable whine of a helicopter.

A black speck appeared on the horizon, dark against the white light of the sun. It grew as it approached, flying low over the towering rock formations and cliffs that rose from the earth. On the side of the craft a red seal stood out against the black paint.

_Shinra Electric Company. _

Within the chopper, two figures peered through the windows, keen eyes searching the ground for any signs of life. Both were dressed in identical blue suits and sported matching headsets.

The similarities ended there, however.

The pilot had a mass of flaming red hair, sticking out in all directions on the crown of his head before terminating into a long ponytail that hung down his back. Sharp gray eyes, glowing with mako, stood out against pale skin—youthful features only marred by two red slashes beneath each eye. A suit jacket hung open from his lean frame, protecting a white shirt unbuttoned at the top while goggles rested on his forehead, keeping long bangs from obscuring his vision. Dirty combat boots furiously worked the pedals, keeping the helicopter in the air.

His partner was smooth and professional—suit pressed, tie present, shirt starched, dress shoes polished. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and light streaming in through the window reflected on a shaved crown. His skin was several shades darker than his partner's but just as smooth with a neatly trimmed beard adding age and maturity.

"They want the two of us," the pilot spoke, breaking the silence with a lazy drawl, "to find them in this desert wasteland." He shook his head and scoffed. "Impossible."

His partner turned his head slightly to look at him. "We always accomplish our missions…"

"We're Turks," the other finished, looking over at him, an air of offense tinting his words.

"Yeah."

_Turks. _

The very name itself struck fear into the hearts of those who heard it. Elite assassins, the President's bodyguards, no one crossed a Turk and lived.

No one.

The bald one continued. "Tseng has something he would give him."

His red-headed companion glanced at him in surprise. "To the target?"

"Yes."

The pilot sighed. "A failed postman." His eyes flicked down to the box of letters sitting between them. "A mission that's taking over a year."

A contemplative silence fell between them as both retreated into their own thoughts. A sharp crackle emitted from their headsets, dragging them back to the present.

"Reno. Rude. Anything yet?" The voice was deep and refined, even over the distorted connection.

Both shook their heads.

"Nothing at all." Reno quipped.

A sigh crackled through the headphones. "All right. Keep looking. Try moving to point 120."

"Roger, Tseng."

"Understood," Rude added.

"We'd better hurry," Reno said grimly, jerking the control stick. The helicopter veered to the left, speeding off to the east, the two Turks still searching for their elusive target.

* * *

Far to the east, miles ahead of the Shinra helicopter, a truck deposited precious cargo near a large boulder before speeding away across the desert, dust billowing in its wake, the roar of its engine shattering the stillness. As it vanished over a small rise, two figures struggled toward a large boulder, one man dragging the other. 

The first was dressed in the dark blue uniform of a SOLDIER, a large sword strapped to his back, glinting in the desert sun and bearing no signs of use. With a grunt, he propped his companion up against the rock, watching as the young man slumped forward, lifeless.

The way he had been for a year.

Zack Fair swallowed, pain pricking at his chest as he stared at the comatose form of his friend. Glowing mako eyes welled with sadness for a brief instant. It shouldn't be like this. Biting his lip, Zack reached out slowly, gripping Cloud Strife's blond hair lightly and shaking him, desperately hoping he would wake up.

No response.

Cloud only slumped further forward, sliding down the rough surface of the rock toward the hot sand—a limp doll unable to support his own weight.

Zack could feel his heart breaking.

He had hoped to see his friend open his eyes at least once before the end. For he knew this was good-bye. They were coming for him. He could hear the choppers in the distance. And, as a black mass on the horizon, Midgar mocked him, offering the tantalizing promise of a safety he would never reach.

_I hope you make it, Cloud. _

He couldn't bring himself to say good-bye. The words lodged in his throat like glue. So he smiled, conveying everything he needed to say in one simple gesture, and slowly stood, drawing the last pieces of his strength. He could run no longer. Now, at last, it was time to fight.

As he turned and strode away he failed to see the figure at the base of the rocks stir and extend a hand toward him, silently begging him to stay.

* * *

They gathered on the ridge, dozens of them—light clothing blending in with the wasteland, triple eyes on their helmets glowing an ominous red. They spilled over the ridge onto the ground, one crawling mass, as two choppers circled overhead, noisy predators waiting for the prey. As one, they cocked their weapons—the ominous clicking drowning out the whirr of the aircrafts. 

Zack surveyed them silently—hands on his hips, sad smile gracing his lips.

_At least they took me seriously. _

The thought brought a dry chuckle bubbling to his lips as he struggled to disregard everything he would never do, the life he would never live. For they were here to execute him and he knew they would succeed.

But he would take as many with them as he could.

"Jeez … the cost of freedom sure is high."

It would take his last, his all, his everything, but he was willing to give it.

Not for revenge, not for justice, not even for freedom, but for a boy with blond hair who deserved a chance to _live,_for a girl with gentle features whom he loved, for the man who had taught him so much…

… and for himself, to prove to Shinra Electric Company that he was a _SOLDIER _and a hero.

They were waiting. He could feel the tension in the air. With a grim smile, he removed Angeal's—_his—_sword from his back and held it firmly in front of him, staring at his image in the reflection.

He was going to die. He would never see Aerith again, or Cloud. After coming so far and running so hard, he was going to die.

But it didn't matter. Because if they could live he was willing to be the sacrifice.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword. "Hold tightly to your dreams…" He had held the words in his heart since the day Angeal spoke them. Now, he whispered them for himself and for the boy lying behind the rock whom he hoped would one day discover their meaning. "…and no matter what time comes…" The sword flashed bright in the sunlight as he brought it down. "… as a SOLDIER …" He swung the sword behind him, muscles taut, ready. "…never let go of your pride!" The last words ended in a defiant yell.

They could take his life, but his dreams and his pride would always be his alone.

A cry came from his throat, echoing off the rocks, soaring toward the sky.

A hero's last battle cry.

His last, his all, his everything, here now, for Shinra to see, to show them alone he was a _hero._

He charged forward, watching them raise their guns, hands poised on the triggers. The first shot erupted, a harsh crack of thunder.

And the world suddenly shrank. There was no more Cloud, no more Aerith, no more Midgar, only him, Shinra and the end of everything.

But if he could die with honor that would be enough.

* * *

Icy rain assaulted him the minute he stepped from the chopper, wind from the dying blades whipped his hair and clothes in every possible direction, and mud sucked at his shoes. Reno hardly noticed the cold, too intent on the grim scene before him. 

Broken pieces of armor and weapons littered the ground. Blood trickled over the rocks, washing away with the falling rain, forming a stream of red that ran right past his feet. The survivors of the battle moved among the wreckage, gathering the bodies of their comrades and struggling to clean up the mess. But one thing, disturbed him—sent a spike of fear and dread through his veins—there were no prisoners, no sign of his target anywhere.

Rude climbed down behind him, also taking in the damage with a critical eye.

"It must have been some fight," he murmured.

Reno sighed and started forward, further into the chaos. "Wait with the chopper. I'll be right back."

He didn't wait for Rude's response, but trekked toward the captain standing in the center of the fray, barking orders to his men.

"What happened here?" Reno asked casually, stopping behind the soldier.

The man whirled, fear darkening his normally impassive features as he stared at the imposing figure only a foot away. He gulped quietly. Turks—the one group of people he had hoped never to meet.

Reno raised an eyebrow impatiently and the captain hurriedly stuttered over a reply. "He just came at us, sir. Like a man possessed. It was … crazy." He shuddered—mako eyes and a lone, angry yell echoing through his mind.

Reno crossed his arms, staring hard at the man. "Where is he now?"

"Dead, sir."

The Turk's reaction was not the one he had been hoping for. Glowing orbs narrowed to slits and a dark frown twisted pale lips. "Dead?"

"Y-yes, sir." The captain stammered fearfully, hoping the ground would open and swallow him, anything to get away from the Turk.

He nearly cried out when an EMR appeared in his vision, humming with electricity and pointed straight at his heart. "Those were not you orders. You were told to _wait _for _us._Those men were supposed to be taken alive, you _idiot_."

The captain could feel himself trembling, fear throbbing in every vein at the sight of the Turk's eyes sparking with rage. "B-but, s-sir, he j-just came a-at us and…"

The mag rod crackled louder as the Turk thumbed it to a higher setting—the shrill electric whine drowning out the patter of the rain. "I don't care about your excuses! He was supposed to be taken _alive." _

The soldier knew he was going to die and shut his eyes tightly beneath his helmet as Reno raised the weapon threateningly, preparing to strike.

"Reno." Rude's stern voice cut through the silence, stopping Reno mid-attack.

Glancing over his shoulder, Reno frowned at the sight of his partner walking towards him across the battlefield. "C'mon, Rude, I'm only going to fry him a little."

Rude stopped and shook his head. There had been enough blood shed already. Reno seemed to understand and lowered his arm—a long, rattling sigh accompanying the movement. The captain opened one eye, peering at the Turk cautiously.

Reno chuckled bitterly. "I guess this is your lucky day. Now get out of my sight."

He was happy to obliged, scrambling away to help his men and thankful to have some distance between him and the crazy Turk.

"What happened?" Rude asked.

Reno turned around slowly, EMR still in hand, fury still a fire in his gaze. "They killed him," he spat.

Rude didn't seem surprised, but bowed his head in subtle grief nonetheless.

Reno continued, looking around him at the field of death. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not like this…" Another bitter laugh, and pain crept in alongside the anger in gray mako eyes. "Those idiots."

His eyes found two lumpy tarps lying on the bluff, protecting the bodies of the targets from the rain. They lingered there, taking in the simple scene and welling with regret.

"But then again, we're all monsters." It was a quiet murmur and he tore his gaze away from the tarps to the blood spattering the ground. "What other end is there?"

Rude said nothing, off-balance by his partner's strange behavior. Usually, Reno didn't care this much about a mission.

His partner whirled suddenly, eyes blazing with something Rude couldn't define. He watched in silence as Reno stalked past him, marching toward the forgotten chopper. After a moment, he followed. Reno yanked open the door and reached inside, pulling the box of letters from the seat.

He paused for a moment, staring at it.

Letters, dozens of them, penned by a woman in love, never to be opened.

It hurt, for reasons he couldn't understand and with an angry cry, he hurled the box over the edge of the cliff, watching as the white envelopes twirled and pivoted gracefully in the air, slowly fluttering toward the ground.

There was one letter left, on the floor of the chopper. He pulled it out, watching as the rain created dark stains on the pure white paper. Something stopped him from throwing this letter away—the same ache that had caused him to destroy the others.

He could feel Rude's eyes on him, sense the silent concern radiating from his partner. With a tired sigh, he slid the letter into a pocket of his suit jacket, protecting it from the harsh rain. Turning around, he faced Rude fully and forced a smile to his lips.

"Let's go report to Tseng."

Rude nodded, refraining from commenting on Reno's bizarre behavior. Reno wouldn't mention it either. They could both pretend that they weren't effected by Zack Fair's death, by the bitter pain of failure. They would hide their aching, bleeding hearts behind walls of ice and stone for one simple reason—they were _Turks._

And Turks didn't feel.

* * *

The men watched the Turks go with silent relief, tension visibly draining from their postures. The captain shouted orders to his men and slowly they began to pack up their equipment and retreat over the ridge. They would set up camp far away from the scene of battle, tend their wounded and bury their dead. Then, they would return and give the two refugees the burial they deserved. 

The ex-SOLDIER's courage had touched the hearts of many in the battalion. He deserved to be honored, though he might have killed many of their comrades. They were Shinra and such was life.

As they trudged away from the grim battleground none of them noticed when one of the tarps moved.

* * *

**AN: **Reviews keep me going. Review and I will update. 


	2. II: Toward Safety

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy belongs to Square Enix. If I owned it ... I would be a lot richer. **  
**

**AN**: I apologize for how short this chapter is, but it flowed nicely and I didn't want to try to make it longer. The next chapter will be longer. And they'll probably continue to grow in size as this story continues. I hope you all enjoy. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and reviews are coveted.

_

* * *

Where am I? _

Everything hurt—his head, his chest, his arms, his legs. His lungs burned with every breath of air and the pounding ache between his eyes made him feel sick. Forcing back nausea and dizziness, he slowly opened his eyes, frightened of what he might find. All he was met with was darkness. Panicking, he threw out his hand, searching for something solid to hold onto. His fingers brushed something stiff that crackled when he ran his hand over it.

_What?_

Pushing against it, he was shocked when it yielded and fell away. Stars, he could see stars glimmering brightly against the expanse of black that stretched on forever. Looking up at them, he felt small and more than a little helpless.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on the difficult task of standing. First, he put his palms flat against the earth. In mild surprise he realized they were covered with gloves.

Storing this away, he pushed against the ground and managed to get up on his knees. The world skewed left and he felt bile rising in his throat, but he doggedly resisted and continued on his quest. Pushing up on his toes, he rose unsteadily into a crouch, fighting dizziness and pain with every breath. He almost lost his balance but after a moment frantic maneuvering, he was back in control and with one last surge, rose to his feet.

The world spun and colors exploded in front of his eyes, lighting up the darkness. He swayed, unable to keep his balance, weak from the simple effort of standing.

_Oh…_

He forced himself to hold on, to ride out the spell. It would end soon enough. And after a time the earth stopped spinning and the colors receded, except for lights in the distance, brilliant against the black night, trying to outshine the stars.

_What is that place? _

He searched backward through his memory. But he found nothing, just emptiness. Freezing, eyes wide with terror, he tried again, looking for something, anything. The emptiness laughed at him, blank page after blank page.

_I … I don't remember… _

Not how he had gotten here, who he was, where he had been, or why he hurt so badly. Nothing, not even his name.

Frantic, he sifted again, focusing, trying harder. There _had_to be something. Then, a name bubbled to the surface, crisp and clear.

_Cloud …. Cloud … Strife…_

His name, that was his name. But there was something else, something faint—a voice, whispering across time, stretching through his memories. He couldn't hear the words, but he knew the tone. And a face … a face was slowly forming, piecing itself together from the fragments of his memory.

Dark hair, brilliant blue eyes that glowed with something not entirely human, and an easy, confident smile that rarely faded or wavered.

_Who…?_

Struggling to force air into his aching lungs and remain on his feet, Cloud tried to find a name to accompany the face. It struck suddenly, hitting with the force of lightning.

_Zack._

Instinctively he knew that Zack could be trusted, Zack was his friend. And perhaps, he could fill in the pages. Perhaps he knew the whole story. But, where was Zack?

Glowing eyes jerked back and forth, trying to find the friend he had only just discovered but couldn't imagine losing. After a few minutes, right when he was about to fully succumb to the panic seizing him, he saw a tarp lying a few feet away—with a pale arm sticking out from underneath.

Heart lurching, he half ran, half stumbled toward it and collapsed on his knees in the dirt. Wrenching the tarp away, a strangled sob slipped from his throat when he saw his friend lying in the mud—pale as a ghost and covered in blood. There was so much blood. _Too_much. The blood should be inside Zack, not staining the ground.

_No, no, no, no…. _

Gasping, Cloud checked desperately for a pulse, any sign that his friend, his lifeline, was still alive. It was agonizing work, but at last, at last, he found it—so incredibly faint, but there all the same. Sinking back on his haunches, Cloud took a deep breath of sheer relief.

For now, Zack was alive.

A cold wind blew across his face, digging icy fingers into his skin. Shivering, Cloud stared out at the lights in the distance. He had to get Zack to safety and those lights seemed like his best chance. Fighting his own pain and sickness, Cloud forced himself to his feet again and hauled Zack upright, slinging his friend's arm over his shoulder and ignoring the blood seeping through his clothing, warm against his skin.

He wavered for a moment, off-balance from Zack's weight. Pain set his nerves on fire and he gritted his teeth, using every ounce of will-power to keep himself upright. He _would_get them to those lights. He owed it to his friend.

The first step was agony and every step after that, but Cloud kept going, doggedly dragging his friend behind, eyes fixed on the city in the distance.

He desperately hoped, it would offer them safety.

* * *

How about ... five reviews for an update? That's not too much to ask ... (nervously looks around) ... right? 


	3. III: Within the Walls of Midgar

**AN: **Again, not the longest chapter, I apologize. Right now, I need to set the stage a bit more before the REAL story gets going. grin

Reviews keep me writing! I love getting your feedback. Thank you to the five wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter. You guys are great! 

* * *

It was only here the flowers grew. The rest of Midgar was dark and dank, an endless maze of steel and debris. But here, in this old church on the edge of the city, life bloomed. No one knew why the flowers sprouted here, though many—street orphans and those lacking hope—had come to see them.

Some thought it was the faint sunlight that filtered through the molded ceiling, but others insisted it was the girl who tended to them. 

She was soft-spoken and gentle in nature, beautiful beyond compare, inside and out. Some thought she was angel, a ray of light in this dark city. She thought they were foolish. She was just a girl, hardly anyone special. She only took care of the flowers, pouring her heart and soul into them, and waited. 

Waited for him. 

It had been five years now, a lifetime. He had promised her he would come back and she had clung to that promise with all she had. Now, however, her heart was wavering. 

Kneeling among the flowers, Aerith Gainsborough rolled the red ribbon around in her hands. It usually tied back her long auburn hair, but today she couldn't keep herself from taking it out and looking at it. It was faded and worn with time, but still as soft as the day he had given it to her. The day he had left on a mission. The last day she had seen him. 

She could still remember his radiant smile, the twinkle in his eyes when he had handed her the ribbon. 

_"So you don't forget you have a boyfriend while I'm gone." _

His laugh still rang clear in her memory, brightening her heart on the darkest of days. She missed him so much it hurt and she was appalled to find herself doubting that he would return. 

_Where are you, Zack? It's been so long._

Aerith hung her head, fighting uncharacteristic tears. She rarely cried. Especially for Zack. She had always felt that tears would let him down somehow. But it had been _five_years, with no word from him. 

Had he forgotten? Was he dead? 

_More than likely. _

Plucking a flower from its resting place, Aerith held it up to the faint sunlight, twirling it in her fingers gently. She loved the flowers. They were a balm to her soul. A channel for her love. For it was her love for Zack she poured into her flowers. Perhaps that was what made them grow. 

But five years was _so_long. 

Aerith let the flower fall to the floor. 

_Maybe I've held on too long. _

If Zack was alive he would have sent word by now. She couldn't wait forever, though she wanted to. Looking at the ribbon one last time, Aerith let a few tears slide down her cheeks, tears for the man she loved who wasn't coming home. 

_I'll always love you, Zack. _

Carefully, she once again fastened her hair with the ribbon. Eyes set in quiet determination, but filled with grief, she stood and picked up her flower basket. She walked from the church without a backward glance, shutting the door behind her, sealing the beautiful flowers inside, where they would be safe from harm. 

Then, with head held high, Aerith marched down the street and into her future. 

_I'm sorry, Zack, I can't wait for you anymore._

* * *

There was a certain beauty to Midgar that few could appreciate—something exquisitely intricate about the endless maze of metal and the teeming masses. Below, in the dirge of the slums, Midgar was anything but beautiful, but from up here, high above the pollution—where all one saw was the shimmering lights—it was gorgeous beyond belief. 

It was beautiful because _he_owned it. 

The sprawling mass of steel answered to him and only him. He was its master, its god. And he loved it. 

President Shinra smiled to himself as he stood looking down on his city. He often could be found here, staring out the expansive windows of his office. Midgar was perfect in his eyes. Except for one thing. Anger sprouted in his chest just thinking about the blemish on his city and his eyes narrowed into slits, destroying the stain in his mind. 

One ragtag group of rebels thought that they could defy him, thought they knew what was best for this city. Their cries for justice had cast a shadow over his fame, over Midgar's beauty. He no longer could look out his window without thinking of them and the damage they had caused his company. 

One hand curled into a trembling fist as sharp eyes blackened with silent rage. 

AVALANCHE had been a thorn in his side for years, but soon, soon he would find them. 

And he would _crush _them.

* * *

"Okay, people, keep it down!" 

The insistent whisper brought instant quiet to the dark room as all eyes turned swiftly to look at its source. The towering man glowered at them, upset at their carelessness. Shinra had spies everywhere. And they couldn't afford to be caught. Not now. 

One woman toward the front of the crowd brushed dark hair out of her crimson eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Barrett," she murmured apologetically, a smile of wry amusement tugging on her lips. 

Barrett huffed, folding massive arms across an equally muscular chest. "Now," he said, meeting every eye the room, "that it's quiet, let's focus on business shall we." 

Everyone nodded, cowed by his stern gaze. "Do we have everything lined up?"

One man near the back frowned. "Not quite. Some things are still in the works." 

Barrett grunted in impatience and disproval. "How much longer?" 

The man shrugged. "One month. Give or take." 

The woman glanced at Barrett, worry in her eyes. "That's a pretty long time," she said quietly. 

Barrett nodded, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "I know, but it will have to do." 

The members of AVALANCHE nodded. Soon, they would go after the company that had destroyed so many of their lives, and were killing so many more. Soon, they would have Shinra in their reach. 

And they would _destroy _it.

* * *

His hands were shaking again—a slight tremor that never seemed to go away. Taking a deep breath, he struggled once more to steady them. The attempt ended in failure, like always. So he ignored his traitorous appendages and focused on the task at hand. 

The bandages were still bloody, even after nearly a week. Small red spots splattered the pristine cloth as he slowly pulled it away from his friend's chest. At least they weren't soaked through like they had been before. 

Zack didn't stir as Cloud struggled to prop him up, one arm slung around his shoulders, the other bracing his back. The cloths fell to the dirty floor, cast away by Cloud's hand. Cloud laid Zack down gently on the only bed in the room, wincing as it groaned beneath the man's weight.

More bandages nestled snugly in a brown canvas bag—a gift from the lady who had found them and brought them here. Cloud found some clean ones and set them on the bed, filled a bowl with water, and carefully cleaned his friend's wounds. They were starting to heal over, thankfully. But they still leaked precious life fluid. 

Cloud wished that he knew more about such things. He could only do this much because the lady had shown him. 

After several botched attempts and some ingenious maneuvering, Cloud managed to secure the bandages around Zack's chest and torso. Laying his friend gently on the rickety bed, he sighed softly, wincing as pain pricked through his veins. The small twinges were daily occurrences, though they grew less sharp and frequent with each passing day. Taking a deep breath, Cloud leaned back against the headboard, ignoring the rough splinters that poked at his back through his clothing. 

The lady had given him new clothing. He old outfit was mud stained and torn beyond repair. The clothes weren't much and did little to proctect against the cold, but he supposed they were enough. 

Resting his chin on his knees, Cloud stared hard at Zack's limp form. 

_Please, Zack, wake up. Move. Anything… something … please._

The other man didn't respond to his silent pleas, remaining stiff and lifeless. 

Like a corpse…

Cloud shuddered and edged closer to Zack, desperately wishing for some kind of protecting. The city was dark and dangerous--full of leering faces, twisted metal, pollution and sickness. His mind was still a blank slate and he knew it was nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to scrounge up consistent meals for himself. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, where he should even begin. 

His mind felt wrong too. Something was there he was almost certain hadn't been present before. Everything about him felt … _off,_more than just his missing memories, and he was terrified of what it could be. 

A low whimper escaped his lips and he buried his head in his knees as the tremor moved from his arms through his veins, affecting his entire body. 

_Zack … __**please… **_

Zack slept on, oblivious.

* * *

Same request as last time. Five reviews for an update? I know you guys can do it! 


	4. IV: Regaining Life

**AN: **Well, finally, here's an update! Sorry for making you wait so long. I was distracted by two other stories. Heh. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys rock my socks! It's great getting feedback. Keeps me writing.

This is another transition chapter, kind of delving a bit deeper into Zack and Cloud's friendship and the problems they are facing. I apologize if all this stage setting gets tedious but with a story as big as this one will probably be and involving so many characters, it's necessary.

Enjoy the chapter! And review!

* * *

Sound was the first thing that penetrated the darkness—voices murmuring distantly, footsteps, the creak of wood. He recognized them all. But why would he be hearing them? Wasn't he supposed to be dead?

Next, came feeling. Pain rushed through his veins, telling him he was very much alive and he hissed softly. Once the pain had lessened he could feel rough padding beneath him, something equally rough covering him, and a lump of fabric cradling his head.

_Where am I? _

He wasn't sure, but he was going to find out. Mustering his strength, he forced his eyes open—inch by painful inch. At first there was just a blur of colors, moving in and out of each other in a way that made his head spin. But when he squinted and focused, they began to separate and take shape—a mottled ceiling, old, worn walls, a cement floor coated with dust … and blue eyes hovering anxiously above his face.

"Zack?" the voice was coarse and faint, but so familiar.

"Cloud?" he whispered, unable to believe his eyes.

Those glowing mako eyes were still dark with pain and sickness, but they were clearer and more focused than they had been in years. And when Cloud nodded, actually responding to his question, Zack almost wept in relief.

Not only was he alive, but his best friend had finally woken up.

"I … can't … believe it," he forced out, caught somewhere between sobbing and laughing.

Cloud didn't smile. "I thought you'd never wake up," he murmured.

"How … how… did you…?"

Cloud shrugged. "I don't know. I woke up on this cliff and there was this city in the distance and you … you were _dying_. So, I dragged you here. Some old woman fixed you up and let us stay in this shack."

Zack blinked in surprise and slowly took in his surroundings again. "Are we … in Midgar?" The question was hesitant. He was almost afraid to hope.

Cloud's eyes darkened in confusion. "Midgar?" he repeated, saying the word as though it was foreign to his tongue.

Alarm raced through Zack. Cloud should know what Midgar was. It was where he had joined Shinra. It was where he had begun his SOLDIER training. It was the place he had called home for nearly three years.

"You … you don't know what Midgar is?"

Cloud shook his head. "I … don't remember. I don't remember anything … except my name … and you."

Zack wasn't sure what to feel. Cloud didn't remember? Was that a blessing or a curse? "Oh…." He managed, the word coming out so faint that Cloud had to lean forward to hear it.

"What's Midgar?" Cloud's voice sounded desperate.

"A city. The capital. I think … we're in it. Which … is good. We should … be safe here."

Cloud's face twisted. "Safe from what?"

Zack couldn't bring himself to tell him. Cloud had been burdened by pain and the past for so long. _Too _long. And this might be a change at freedom from its deathly grip. So instead he closed his eyes and pretended he hadn't heard. Unfortunately, he forgot how persistent Cloud could be.

"Zack … something bad happened to us … didn't it?"

Zack couldn't lie. Not to Cloud. "Yes."

Cloud sat back, disappearing from view. "I thought so."

Ignoring the way his wounds screamed in protest, Zack managed to sit up in the rickety bed, looking at Cloud, who at the foot of it with his chin on his knees—looking so young and so old at the same time.

"We're going to … be okay, Cloud." He wasn't sure if the words were true, but the assurance was all he had to give.

Cloud glanced at him, worry in his eyes. "I wish I could remember."

_No, you don't. _

But Zack couldn't say that out loud. "Maybe the memories … will come back in time."

"You should rest."

Zack didn't protest to the abrupt subject change for the pain and exhaustion was beginning to pull him back toward unconsciousness. "Okay … but as soon as … 'M better … I'll find work … for us … 'kay?"

Cloud nodded. "Okay."

As Zack fell back against the pillow and let sleep overtake him he made one last promise to himself.

_And I'll find you, Aerith._

* * *

A long, weary sigh echoed faintly through the ramshackle building, emitting from the tired SOLDIER standing in the center of it. Finally, after nearly a week, he was standing. His chest still felt like it was on fire and the first time Cloud had removed the bandages he'd gaped in shock at the sheer number of holes in him. It was no small miracle that he'd lived. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the spike of pain in his chest protesting the action, Zack glared at his reflection in the cracked and broken mirror. The shards distorted his features oddly, twisting them out of proportion and dividing him up. Even without the odd deformities caused by the mirror, Zack knew he was quite a sight. His hair was grimy and too _long _for his tastes, bugging him for reasons he couldn't explain, his face was pale from lack of sunlight and smudged slightly with dirt and he was redefining the term 'skinny.'

Tilting his head, Zack watched idly as the mirror further misshaped his face, wondering what he could do about his less than pleasant appearance. There was no water to bath in and food was scarce, so thin and dirty he would remain, but his hair, he could do something about that. Gritting his teeth, the ex-SOLDIER pivoted slowly, scanning the room form a useful tool. His lips turned up in a smirk when spotted a large knife sitting inconspicuously on the dusty corner table.

Scooping it up, he didn't bother to look at the mirror, just sliced straight up in one smooth motion, chopping his hair off in the back. Pieces drifted to the floor and bangs slid forward, framing his face. Zack sighed again and glanced at the mirror, inspecting his impromptu haircut. The back stuck out oddly and his bangs brushed his chin again, but he hardly minded. Vaguely, he realized he looked the same way he had back before this hold mess with Shinra started.

_Good. That way, perhaps I can forget it ever happened. _He paused, shaking his head and chuckling bitterly. _Yeah right. That's like trying to forget the moon exists. _

The door to the shack creaked open and Cloud stumbled through, clutching something to his chest. Zack frowned, noting the tired lines around his friend's blue eyes. He didn't like Cloud doing all the work, not when the kid was still recovering from his own illness.

Cloud paused, looking mildly surprised to see Zack out of bed. "Hi," he murmured after a moment, walking further into the room and dropping his package on the table.

"Are you okay?" Zack asked, worried by how sluggishly Cloud was moving today.

Cloud shrugged almost casually. "Are you?"

Zack paused, mulling it over. Was he? He highly doubted it. His chest still screamed in protest whenever he moved too much or breathed too deeply and he was beginning to realize that there were dozens of repressed memories waiting to be dealt with from the overwhelming trauma of the past five years. But, he needed to be strong. Cloud was counting on him. So he smiled, though it felt sad, and reassured him instead of telling the truth. "I will be."

He wasn't sure if Cloud believed him or not, but his friend didn't' press the issue, merely turned away and opened up the package, spilling various items onto the table. Zack peered over his shoulder and grinned sincerely. "Food," he exclaimed happily. "Oh yeah."

Cloud didn't laugh or even smile, which worried Zack, and something seemed to be troubling him. His eyes were distant, focused inward and perplexed look darkened his face. Zack's grinned slipped away, replaced by a frown of concern.

"Cloud?"

Cloud blink, snapping back to the present. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

Cloud frowned, looking at the ceiling. "What's right?" He answered back cryptically, a hint of bitterness ghosting the edges of his voice.

Zack's frown deepened. "What's bothering you?" he pressed, frustrated by Cloud's attempts to dodge him.

Cloud's expression turned distant again but fear was there too. "I think … something's wrong with me." He whispered it, eyes on the floor and Zack's stomach churned.

"How so?" He managed to keep his voice calm, despite the storm raging in him.

Cloud's face contorted as he searched for the right words. "I … don't know. Something just … doesn't feel right." He sighed, shaking his head and gnawing on his lip, looking like he wanted to say more but was afraid to.

"Spit it out," Zack commanded, grasping his friend's shoulders. "What else?"

Slowly, Cloud pulled away and tugged his shirt over his head. "This…" muttered, holding out his arm.

Zack's breath caught in his throat. A tattoo stood out dark against Cloud's pale skin, on his upper arm, just beneath his shoulder—the Roman numeral for eight above an odd symbol. Carefully he traced it, biting back equal amounts of pain and anger. Hojo had marked his best friend, staining him forever as an experiment. Zack's teeth clenched involuntarily, keeping the rage in check.

_I'll kill him._

"Zack?" Cloud whispered, sounding so small. "What does this mean?"

Zack closed his eyes, hiding the agony in them. "I … I'm not sure," he stammered. It was true enough. He knew it was Hojo's sick work, but not the meaning behind the symbol. Though he could guess what the number was for…

_Yep. I'm __**so **__going to kill him. He'd better watch his back… _

"Just forget it, Cloud," he mumbled, feeling incredibly tired.

Anger sparked briefly in Cloud's eyes. "Why? What if it'll help me remember?"

The haunted look in Zack's eyes scared him beyond belief. How could someone still smile, when their eyes contained so many shadows, so much _pain, _What had Zack _seen _to put such a look in his eyes? Such a terrifying mixture of guilt, regret, shame, and agony.

_Do … do __**my **__eyes look like that? _

When Zack spoke it was a tortured whisper. "Some things are better off being forgotten."

Cloud didn't reply. No words could counter such a heartfelt statement. Instead he changed the subject, telling Zack to get some rest. Zack protested, but eventually collapsed back into bed while Cloud struggled to prepare a decent meal, thoughts running circles in his head.

* * *

ONE MONTH LATER

"… and you hold the sword like this."

Cloud nodded intently, mirroring Zack's position with surprising ease. Zack kept his shock in check and continued with the sword lesson.

"All right, now it's a sideways sweep followed by another sideways sweep in the other direction then an upward slash."

Cloud followed the instructions swiftly and perfectly, handling a sword with a grace that reminded Zack a bit of Sephrioth.

"Wow," he murmured. "You're getting good."

And it was true. In a month Cloud was somewhere between third and second class in the SOLDIER program. A position most couldn't hope for in a year. Albeit, Cloud had been in training to enter SOLDIER at the time of Nibelheim, but most of those memories had been lost.

Cloud had been talented, that much was for sure. He still remembered his conversation with Angeal, the first time he saw Cloud.

_"They want __**him **__to enter SOLDIER?" _

_"Yes. He has a lot of talent. More than I've seen in years." _

_"He's a stick! And he's just a kid!" _

_"So? You were when you joined if my memory serves me correctly." _

_"Yeah, but…" _

_"I think that he might be as strong as Sephiroth one day." _

_"Impossible!" _

_"Nothing's impossible, Zack. Nothing." _

Maybe Angeal had been right about Cloud. The thought was frightening for some reason. Zack didn't want to live through another Sephiroth. He shuddered, remembering mako eyes full of madness and a cold steel sliding into his flesh.

"Thanks." Cloud's soft murmur brought him back to the present.

"Welcome," Zack said, forcing a smile. "I'm going to go look for some food. Don't overwork yourself."

"Okay." Cloud said and focused again on the blade in his hands. Zack shook his head and slipped from the shack they had called home for the past five weeks. Immediately, he was assaulted by the dirty sights and smells of the slums.

The pollution nearly choked him, but he had slowly grown accustomed to it. Others around him, however, seemed strangely ill. After a month he hadn't been able to figure out what the source of the disease was and had given up, forcing himself to leave well enough alone. As long as he or Cloud didn't contract it, it was none of his business.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Zack sighed and looked up at the dark plate above him, blocking the sky. It made this whole place feel like a prison. This wasn't the Midgar he remembered. He wasn't' sure how long he'd been away, but a lot had certainly changed. Everything seemed dirtier, grittier, and darker than he remembered. Or maybe, it was him who'd changed.

He'd made a faster recovery than he'd anticipated, feeling almost back to normal within a few short weeks. Three, if his memory served him correctly. But the days flowed together in an endless blur, making it hard to tell. As soon as he'd been able, he'd forced Cloud to take a break, scared about how worn down he was, and hit the streets, searching for something to get them back on their feet. Work was scarce. Here, it was every man for himself. So far, every place he had looked into had been a dead end and he had been forced to resort to stealing and begging—two things he despised.

Dodging some garbage and a drunk, he sighed again, fighting his frustration. It had been a month and he couldn't find it. He'd forgotten where it was. How could he have? It had been the place where he had met her. The place he had fallen in love with her. The place he had said good-bye to her. He shouldn't have forgotten.

But he had.

He no longer knew where the old church was and everyone he asked was too drunk, too busy, or too suspicious to give him an answer. So he had spent one long, weary month wandering the streets of Midgar, searching for her face among the crowd, looking for the church amidst the endless sprawl of broken buildings.

Nothing had come of his search and he was about to despair.

Someone brushed against him roughly, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. After catching his balance, he saw a man in a suit with a gold chain, hurrying through the crowds. He stood out like a sore thumb in the slums and was obviously nervous about being here. The gold chain was a sure sign of wealth.

Zack narrowed his eyes.

_I'm sure he won't mind sharing. _

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the man. While a part of him relished the challenge another part was desperately hoping that this would not be his existence.

* * *

A gasp slipped from his lips the minute he stepped into the dilapidated shack. Feet pounding against the hard floor, he rushed to the form slumped against the far wall.

"Cloud!"

The blond shifted, moaning softly as Zack took a hold of his shoulders and shook him. "Cloud!"

Cloud's eyes fluttered and slowly opened. The fear raging in Zack's heart eased a bit, letting anger seep in. "What were you thinking?"

Cloud blinked. "… was … training."

"You're still sick!"

This wasn't the first time he had found his friend in this state. Often, he had come home to find that Cloud had trained to the point of collapse. While he was improving in leaps and bounds, it was bad for his health and Zack's. He was beginning to question the merit of his idea to teach Cloud how to fight. He hadn't wanted his friend to be defenseless, but if Cloud was going to consistently overwork himself, maybe it was better to stop and simply defend him when the time came.

"I know."

"Why, then?" He was going to a straight answer this time.

Cloud averted his eyes. "I … don't know."

Zack didn't relent. "You're lying."

Cloud took a deep breath. "There's something wrong with me."

Zack shook his head fiercely They had been over this too many times to count in the past couple weeks and it was frustrating him to no end. "There's _nothing _wrong with you! Nothing!"

Cloud's eyes bore into his. "Yes. There is. I can't remember anything. And I feel … empty … numb." His eyes glazed over for a brief instant, looking at something only he could see but before Zack could comment, they cleared and refocused on him. "Something's not right."

"But why push yourself so hard?" Zack changed the topic, not wanting to delve into all the possible outcomes of Hojo's inhuman experimentation.

Cloud's shoulders lifted in a faint shrug. "It's something to focus on."

Zack frowned. "Don't do it anymore. I'll die from worry if every time I come back I find you unconscious."

"Sorry."

The frown dissipated, replaced by a light smile. "It's okay, Spiky."

Cloud blinked in silent confusion. "Spiky?"

Zack chuckled, rocking back on his heels. "Yeah, I used to call you that. It always got you upset."

Cloud still seemed confused. "Oh … I see."

Worry crept into Zack's heart. Cloud was right. Something was … _off. _Cloud was too cold, too distant. Five years ago, the nickname "Spiky" would have garnered a cry of outrage. Now, Cloud didn't react at all.

"Zack?"

Zack shook his head slightly, blinking his eyes back into focus. Cloud was looking at him intently. "Yeah?"

"Did you get more food?"

Zack sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

As he took out the loaf of bread he had purchased with the rich man's money and split it with Cloud, the ex-SOLDIER wondered how much longer they would survive.

* * *

That's all for now. Sorry it wasn't very eventful... Please review. This story, if it goes the way I'm planning is going to be daunting and I'll need all the feedback I can get. Constructive criticism is equally coveted. Five reviews for update?


	5. V: A Rebel's Proposal

**AN: **Well, here is what I hope is a more interesting chapter. Things are started to get moving!

Thanks to all the great people who reviewed! I was surprised at how many I got. You guys keep the inspiration flowing! That and watching Crisis Core videos, especially the ending. **grins.**

* * *

"We're ready."

The news should have brought some measure of happiness, at least a small degree of relief, but he felt only grim determination and slight frustration.

"Our numbers aren't big enough. We need someone with more fighting skill!"

The other shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe a mercenary?"

Barrett sighed. "Those are not readily available."

"We could look."

The right corner of the rebel leader's mouth twitched upward. "You're right. We could."

"We'd need someone good with no ties to Shinra and nothing to lose."

Barret's smile widened. "Or … we find someone who _hates _Shinra and has nothing to lose."

The other smirked. "Perfect."

* * *

_Perfect… _

Zack frowned grimly at the Shinra patrol heading down the polluted street, marching in perfect unison, guns cocked and ready to fire—the glowing red marks on their helmets like dark eyes, striking fear into the hearts of the lowlifes and drunkards who scampered out of their path.

From his hiding place behind a group of barrels overflowing with trash and leaking a suspicious green fluid, Zack tightened his grip on his sword, every muscle tensing as adrenalin pounded through his veins. He had hoped never to see the masked soldiers again. They had taken so much from him. He vaguely remembered the feel of rain on his skin—the cold water mixing with the warm blood seeping from his wounds. Cloud's lifeless eyes swam before his vision and memories of a cold, dark lab filled with torture and pain made his blood boil.

_Shinra. _The very name was a curse.

_Electric. _What a hoax. The only things they truly did were kill, maim, and destroy. He had seen it all. Angeal's broken eyes, Sephiroth's face twisted by insanity, Cloud looking at him with a gaze filled with so much _pain. _All those hopes, all those dreams—gone forever.

_Company. _They were more than that, he knew. They were _gods. _They decided who lived, who died, who rose, who fell. They played with hearts and lives as though they were pieces on a chess board, pawns in a game.

His sword was in his hand, he realized—his fingers curled so tight around the hilt that it hurt. Angeal had given the sword to him. Angeal—one of the many casualties of Shinra.

The patrol was almost to him, their footsteps thunder in his ears.

Zack gritted his teeth. He wanted to attack with every cell in his body, but he couldn't. Cloud would suffer. They would have to run again. And he would lose his chance to find the girl he loved.

No, he just had to get up and walk past them as though nothing was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Zack sheathed his sword, hiding it behind the long coat he found in a dumpster two weeks back, and slowly rose to his feet, keeping his head down to hide the mako glow of his eyes. The troops barely glanced at him. One looked his way for a brief instant, but decided Zack—dirty and disheveled, dressed in ratty clothes and staring intently at the ground in an almost submissive gesture—was beneath his notice and turned away.

They were almost to the end of the street, about to turn the corner, when thunder echoed down the dark pathway. Zack's head jerked up, glowing eyes darting back and forth, searching the shadows for the source of the commotion.

_There… _

To his left, three dark patches, holding guns aimed right at the Shinra troops. The soldiers were turning, pulling their own weapons from their holsters in response to the ambush. They far outnumbered the attackers and it wouldn't be long before they pinpointed the source of the shots. It was a foolish waylay but a brave one, and that gave it merit in the ex-SOLDIER's eyes.

So he decided to help.

The Shinra soldiers were returning fire—sharp reports from their weapons louder than cannon blasts in the enclosed space. Bullets peppered the walls and the floor, overturning garbage barrels and sending people diving for cover. The three shadows moved, darting further away down the street toward a more defensible position. One courageous—_or stupid_—rebel paused in his flight to fire a few quick shots at the oncoming enemy. A stray bullet caught a soldier in the chest, killing him instantly, but the rest advanced, breaking into a run, determined to bring the rebels down.

It was time to intervene.

Quicker than lightning, Zack drew his weapon and tore down the street toward the Shinra grunts.

_Only twelve. Piece of cake. _

The blade glinted in the dim light, combining with Zack's scintillating eyes to make a fearsome sight. The soldiers paused momentarily, startled by the new threat and struggling to decide on a course of action. It was pointless and far too late. They were already dead.

Zack cut through them easily, taking most down before they had a chance to move. One rolled out of his way, managing to bring his gun up and fire off a shot. It whistled past Zack's head and embedded itself in the wall with a dull thump. The trooper was dead seconds later.

Thirty seconds. The fight was over before it ever began. In its wake, Zack stood tall, eyes blazing with the thrill of a challenge and vivacious life not even Shinra could quench.

The three rebels crept from their hiding spots, rifles still drawn, wary of their savior. Never in their lives had they seen someone move with such speed and skill. One of the three—the rebel who had risked a few shots during his flight—stepped forward, boldly approaching the SOLDIER.

He towered above Zack, massive in height and size with features carved of granite and dark eyes rife with suspicion and world weariness. Dark skin stood out against a white flax jacket and in replace of a right hand was a large, multi-barreled gun. Zack tensed, raising his sword slightly into a more defensive position.

The man chuckled in response, shaking is head. "Those are some moves you got there. I ain't never seen anyone move that fast."

Zack's grip on his weapon loosened and he smiled slightly. "Lot's of practice."

The giant cocked his head. "Shinra?"

Zack's lips pressed in a thin line of quiet displeasure. "Not anymore. Not ever again."

"You looking for work?"

"Yes."

White teeth cut a line through dark skin. "I might just have a job for you."

* * *

The bar was in relatively good condition considering its location. Sector 7 rarely produced anything of quality. The windows were free of grime and only marred by one crack originating in the upper left corner and creeping down toward the middle of the large pane. The neon sign was free of bullet holes and only missing two letters, still perfectly legible. Zack quickly filled in the missing 's' and 'a'.

_Seventh Heaven. _

As they approached the front door—blinds preventing a good view of the interior—two of the rebels fell back and turned down separate streets, fading into the shadows of the alleys. Zack tensed, cursing himself for probably walking into a trap. In this maze of back alleys and darkened streets, an ambush was painfully easy. And he had left himself wide open.

_Stupid …. _

One hand clenched into a fist at his side while the other darted to the hilt of his sword. It would be an easy draw, since he left the hindering coat in the alley. He could kill the man in seconds and make a run for it. The gun arm might be a problem but he'd faced far worse.

The black man had reached the door and stopped, glancing over his shoulder at the ex-SOLDIER frozen in place halfway up the path. He arched an eyebrow, taking in the rigid stance and wary eyes. Understanding dawned on his face and he smiled, an oddly gentle gesture for someone of his build. "This ain't a trap, kid. We ain't got no reason to kill ya."

"How do I know that?" Zack shot back.

The man shrugged. "You don't, but you're gonna have to trust somebody, someday. I ain't gonna kill you. Either you can take my word for it and get in here, or you can leave and miss out on a job opportunity. Your choice, kid."

Slowly, the shoulders relaxed and Zack's hand fell back to his side. The man smiled again and beckoned him forward. He complied, caution still evident in every movement. The door to the bar opened with a faint creak and a wave of cool air brushed against Zack's face. It smelled clean and was a refreshing break from the grit and pollution of the city streets. Sighing in faint contentment, the ex-SOLDIER followed his guide across the threshold into the bar, leaving the filthy city behind.

The interior of the bar was spacious and dim. Numerous ceiling fans whirred quietly, spreading the cool air around the room. Tables and chairs dotted the floor in a random pattern while a stately oak counter occupied the back wall, stretching almost the width of the room. Various pictures hung on the cream walls, adding color to the sparse room—moments in time trapped beneath cracked frames.

A lone woman stood behind the bar, wiping off the wood surface with a worn rag. Her arm moved in strong strokes, showing off the muscles of a fighter and her movements also possessed a strange grace that was captivating and … familiar. She was beautiful, he knew, even though her black hair hung in her, hiding in from view, before continuing onwards, spilling across her shoulders and down her back. The bits of skin he could see were as smooth as porcelain. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than him, and dressed in red and black. The red shirt set off her hair and the black pants were loose and practical. Here was someone unconcerned with beauty. Two silver earrings—the only apparent jewelry she wore—shaped like teardrops flashed in the dim light and the feeling of familiarity only grew.

The door banged shut behind the man, causing her to glance up sharply. The air left in his lungs in a soft gasp as two-wine colored eyes locked onto his own. He knew those eyes. He'd seen them in the face of a teenager dressed in a cowgirl outfit, a lifetime ago. The eyes were the same, but the face had changed. It was more guarded, haunted—the unmistakable look of someone who had seen horrific things and buried loved ones.

The eyes drifted away from him, releasing him from their spell and focused on the black man. A small smile tugged at her lips, removing some of the years from her eyes. "Hello, Barret. How'd the raid go?"

Barrett huffed angrily. "Not good."

The smile vanished, taking her youth along with it. "Oh."

Then, her eyes turned back to him and remained, scanning his face intently. Confusion slowly twisted her features, as well as concentration. He met her gaze evenly, memories rushing through his brain at the speed of light. The reactor, the girl with bright eyes standing next to him and Sephiroth while the cameraman snapped a picture, leading them up the mountain with a confident smile and step, in a pool of her own blood on the hard reactor floor. Though she had grown up, making him wonder just how long he had been away, he remembered and knew instantly who she was.

_It's her… _

_Tifa Lockhart. _

Recognition flared in her eyes too, but it faded quickly, retreating behind an icy wall. Barrett, who had witnessed the bizarre staring match, glanced back and forth between them with a quizzical frown. "Do you two know each other or somethin'?"

Zack frowned, a positive reply on the tip of his tongue, but he held it in when Tifa shook her head. "No," she said brusquely, dropping the rag somewhere behind the counter and moving to the sink. "I've never seen him before. Who is he?"

Zack blinked, puzzled by this bizarre turn of events. He was _sure _she was Tifa Lockhart and that she knew his identity. Why then, did she lie?

"Found him on the street. Saved us from Shinra. Says he used to be with 'em and he's lookin' for work. Thought he'd suit our needs."

Tifa shrugged idly, nodding. "Fine. Don't mind me."

Barrett shrugged in response and plopped down on one of the barstools, ignoring the way it groaned loudly in protest. Zack perched on the seat next to him, crossing his arms and regarding the rebel with forced indifference. A long awkward silence spanned the length of a few minutes as the two hesitated, unsure of where to begin.

Finally, Barrett spoke. "I didn't catch your name."

Zack didn't blink. "I didn't give it. But it's Zack Fair, if you must know."

More silence, then, "You in SOLDIER? Gotta be, with the way you move and those eyes. No mistakin' a SOLDIER's eyes."

"First Class."

Barrett whistled. "That high? You're pretty young."

An idle shrug. "I'm old enough."

Barrett sighed softly. "Alright, enough chitchat." He leaned forward, peering sideways at Zack. "I've got a job for you. Now, I ain't got much money so I can only pay you one thousand gil."

Zack frowned, eyes flashes in mute annoyance. "That's pretty low."

Barrett gritted his teeth in frustration. "It's all we got, kid."

Zack's eyes hardened. "Five thousand."

Barrett growled, a menacing look overtaking his face. "Why you little …"

The SOLDIER was hardly fazed. "Five thousand."

"1,500."

"Five thousand."

"Two thousand!"

"Five thousand."

"How dare …! 2,500. _Final _offer!"

Zack shook his head. "Five thousand."

Barrett cursed loudly and slammed his hand on the counter, rising to his feet so quickly his stool tumbled to the floor with a resounding 'thud.' Zack shot to his feet as well, eyes flashing, and for a brief moment the two glared angrily at each other. Then, like a volcano, Barrett exploded.

A loud stream of expletives erupted from his mouth, followed by as many demeaning adjectives as his brain could supply. "You arrogant, upstart, _stupid_…!"

A loud bang interrupted his rant and both men glanced over at Tifa in surprise. She released her tight hold on the cup she had slammed against the counter and looked at them with fire-filled eyes, beautiful features contorted in frustration.

"Just give him the five thousand!" She yelled, punctuating her words with a sharp jerk of her hand in Zack's direction. "We need him and you know it!"

Barret looked away in outrage but said nothing, agreeing with his silence. Tifa turned to Zack, crossing her arms and glaring at him with such intensity he shrank back almost visibly. Her stare was worse than Angeal and Rufus Shinra combined.

"Five thousand," she hissed, "and not a gil more."

Zack inclined his head, regaining his confidence rapidly and allowing a small smile to appear in the corner of his mouth. "Agreed."

Tifa snorted and turned away, leaving them to sort the rest out. Zack slid back onto his stool, assuming a casual posture. "What's the mission?"

Barrett remained silent for a long moment, reining in his anger. Finally, he took a deep breath, schooled his features into the picture of neutrality, righted to stool, and resumed his seat, folding his large arms on the bar. "We got somethin' we need to blow up." His tone was cautious, guarded.

Zack's eyebrows catapulted upward. "Like what?"

Barrett sucked in another deep breath, hesitating for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head, reaching an internal decision. "Like a mako reactor."

The ex-SOLDIER let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who _are _you guys?"

Barrett frowned, warring with himself over how much to tell the kid. He decided it didn't matter. They had little enough to lose. "Ever heard of AVALANCHE?"

Zack paused, sifting though his memories before nodding slowly. The name had come up years ago, not long after he joined Shinra. "Rebel group trying to overthrow Shrina." He tilted his head to one side, regarding Barrett with a gentle smirk. "You, correct?"

Barrett nodded. "Yeah. We plan on sendin' them a message. Wearin' them down until they gotta give up."

Zack let loose a short, almost bitter laugh, and rested his head on the bar. "Well, blowing up a mako reactor is a good first step."

Barrett chuckled, warming up to the young man. "Yeah. So, what's your story? Why you runnin' from Shinra?"

The humor vanished from Zack's eyes as fast as snowflakes in a desert and the brilliant blue dulled slightly under the weight of silent pain. "I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?" Barrett pressed.

Zack sighed and shrugged. "Both."

Barrett frowned but Zack was saved from further interrogation when the door flew open and an auburn haired girl stumbled through. "Barret! Biggs wants you to come look at something."

Barrett sighed and rose to his feet, crossing the bar to where the girl stood, wiping the bangs and sweat from her eyes. Her breath came in short gasps and she put her hands on her knees to brace herself. Barrett shook his head, smiling now. "You run all the way here, Jessie?"

She smiled up at him sheepishly. "Biggs said it was important."

"Fine. Let's go." He paused at the door, glancing back at Zack and Tifa. "Tifa, looking after him, will ya?"

Tifa nodded and Barrett strode from the room, tailed by Jess. The door slammed closed with a 'bang' behind them and Tifa sighed, shaking her head. "One of these days, he's going to break that door."

Zack made a small noise of agreement, spinning on his stool to face Tifa with a cold stare. "I know your remember me, Tifa Lockhart."

Tifa turned to face him, face a mask of indifference, an illusion only broken by one hand slowly clenching into a fist. "I thought you were dead, Zack Fair."

Zack shrugged. "I thought so, too." His eyes narrowed. "Now, why didn't you tell Barrett you knew me?"

She sighed, looking suddenly tired. "You wouldn't understand. And Barrett wouldn't understand. I don't talk about Nibelheim anymore."

Zack cocked his head, puzzled and curious, but still accusing. "Why not?"

Tifa glared at his, crossing her arms. "I just don't. End of story."

Zack scowled in protest but let the issue slide. "Fine. Then answer something else for me."

"What?"

Zack sighed, letting the anger drain away. "How long?"

Tifa shook her head, uncomprehending. Zack sighed again. "Since Nibelheim."

Wine-colored eyes widened then dimmed, as the bar-owner dropped her head, staring hard at the polished counter. "Five years," she whispered softly.

Zack recoiled, eyes wide. "F-five _years?" _

Tifa nodded, still refusing to raise her eyes. Zack buried his head in his arms, fighting off a thousand emotions. Five years. That would make him twenty-three. And Cloud twenty-one. And Aerith twenty-two. Strange. A blink of an eye and they were all grown up. He bit his lip, unsure if he should laugh at the irony or cry for keeping Aerith waiting for _five_ years. She probably thought he was dead.

_Oh, Aerith, I'm sorry._

"Zack?" Tifa sounded worried. "Are you okay?"

He wasn't sure how to reply, so kept quiet, merely raising his head and shrugging, conveying all his uncertainty in the simple motion. Tifa swallowed nervously and idly traced a pattern on the counter with her fingertips, looking for a way to ask the next question. "Zack … is Cloud…?" She trailed off, unable to face the possibilities.

She looked _young_, then, and so incredibly vulnerable, longing to hope, yet afraid. He dredged up a reassuring smile and soothed one of her fears. "He's alive."

Her eyes lit up with the first real spark of life he'd seen. "Really?"

He hated to dampen her joy, but he owed her the truth. "He's not the same, Tifa. He doesn't remember anything but his name."

The spark flickered and died, making guilt hound Zack's heart. He _hated _being the bearer of bad news. But the look of utter defeat didn't last long. Determination crept in, upstaging the sorrow and soon her eyes glowed with it. "I want to see him."

Zack blanched, uncertain. "I… I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Tifa glowered at him. "Why not?"

Zack fumbled for an answer that would make sense to her. How could he explain that Cloud was better of not remembering the pain of his past—the rejection of his own village, the rough years in Shinra, the torment of a dark laboratory? She wouldn't understand.

She saw his hesitation and pounced on it. "Please, Zack. I need to see him. He's all that's left."

He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but realized he couldn't keep Cloud from her. It simply wasn't his place. As painful as the reunion may be, the right to it belonged to them alone.

"Fine," he mumbled in defeat. "I'll bring him over."

Tifa smirked. "Good."

* * *

A tired sigh echoed off the bland walls of the apartment before fading into obscurity. He blinked at the mirror on the wall on his bathroom. Old eyes stared at him from a tired face. His hair stuck to his forehead, and too pale skin glistened with sweat, making the white shirt stick to it in various places. Lowering his head, unable to look at the strange reflection any longer, the man gripped the edges of the sink and took a few deep breaths, fighting off the pain coursing through his body.

_It's getting worse… _

Sucking more air into his weary lungs, he turned his gaze to the source of his discomfort. Dark blotches marred the skin along his left arm, from wrist to shoulder. Touching one tenderly, he hissed at the shock of pain that came from the simple motion.

He had thought when the spots first appeared near his wrist they were bruises and thought nothing of it. Everyone got bruises now and then. But the infection had spread, taking over his whole arm and now creeping onto his neck and he knew it was far more than mere bruising.

He was sick.

Turning his head to the side, he grimly examined the black blemishes on the side of his neck. It was almost to his chin. And the pain was getting worse every day. He knew he should feel some sort of fear or alarm, but the only thought that drifted in his mind was,_ I can't hide it anymore. _

For he had told no one of this strange illness, not even those closest to him. It didn't matter. He had seen on the streets of Midgar, Junon, and Wutai and knew the result.

They would find out in a few months … when he was dead.

With a harsh sigh of resignation, he rolled down his sleeve and yanked on his suit jacket, shrugging into a comfortable position on his shoulders and ignoring the sharp pricks of pain running through his veins. He wiped sweat and strands of hair from his forehead, trying to look presentable.

Then, he forced himself to look into the mirror and face the mocking image. Staring hard at it, he shoved the pain from his eyes and expression. He was dying, but he couldn't let it matter. Weakness was never an option in this harsh world.

When his features were once again impassive, he turned away and slipped from the apartment, the bang of the slamming door bouncing down the hallway behind him.

* * *

Well that's all for now. Hope it was more interesting than the last chapter. Things are finally starting to pick up speed. Points to those who can figure out who is sick and what they are sick with.

Five reviews for an update? I know you guys can pull it off. You rock!


	6. VI: Wheels in Motion

**AN: **Well, here's chapter six! Thank you guys so much for your reviews. They were heart-warming. And as a result, I got this chapter done in no time.

Oh, and for the record, there are parts of Final Fantasy VII I never played and the internet refuses to explain to me, so I don't know much about the mako reactors and such. So, if it is different in this story (which I'm sure it is) just roll with it, okay? Remember, this is AU.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The last part of stage-setting before we get into the action. Oh and more mysterious people. **Grin. **

Read on, and review!

* * *

Cloud took a deep, hesitant breath, staring up at the glowing sign of the Seventh Heaven with trepidation. He wasn't sure why he felt so strange—butterflies seemed to be doing somersaults in his stomach and his throat felt parched. What was this? Why … why was his body acting this way?

Zack glanced over at him, offering him a bright smile filled with encouragement. "Don't be nervous. Tifa isn't that bad."

Nervous. Is that what he was?

He swallowed, forcing saliva down his aching throat and nodded silently, still trying to make sense of the churning mess that was his mind and body. "O-okay." He hated the small hiccup in his voice, hated how _young _and utterly weak it made him sound. He'd asked Zack how old he was just yesterday. Something strange had flooded Zack's eyes—the shadow of guilt, regret, and sadness.

"Twenty-one," his friend had replied and he tried to ignore the shock that slammed into him like a ton of bricks.

Twenty-one? He didn't feel twenty-one. How much of his life had he missed? He didn't know and might never find out. His mind was still an infuriating blank slate.

"Ready?" Zack's voice dragged him up from his inner turmoil into the present.

_No… _

He licked his lips and nodded again. "Yes." His voice was even, no hitches or pauses and he allowed himself a small bit of pride.

Zack smiled again and Cloud ignored the hints of sadness present in it and took one faltering step forward, slowly advancing up the path to the bar, building iron walls of resolve with each step closer. The door was in front of him all too soon and he paused momentarily, fighting to keep the walls erect. With another sharp inhalation, he turned the knob and pushed the creaking door open.

As he stepped inside he desperately tired to tell himself that this was just a girl. Nothing more. Just a girl he was facing … not his past. He repeated it over and over in his head like a chant, but from judging the way his stomach was churning, it was having little effect.

* * *

Tifa looked up when the door opened and the breath left her lungs when she saw the figure standing there. She knew him instantly, but at the same time hardly recognized him at all. He had haunted her dreams for years. Her waking hours, too, as she often found herself thinking about him. If he was still alive out there somewhere. If he remembered her, or had forgotten completely. She wouldn't blame him if he did. After all, she'd never really been anything to him. Just a spoiled child. As the years went on, she forced herself to believe he was gone. It was easier that way. To consider everything from her past just a memory eased the pain still wracking her heart.

And yet, in spite of her unbelief, here he was, standing in her doorway.

She barely registered leaving the bar and crossing the floor, only becoming fully aware when she was right in front of him. She longed to put her arms around him and hold him close, prove he was real and solid and not just a figment of her imagination. But she held herself back, kept at bay by the cautious suspicion in his blue eyes. Instead, she drank him in, eyes roaming, taking in every feature, every bit of his face.

His hair was still stuck up in a wild array of spikes and her heart sang at the familiarity. It still reminded her of a chocobo and that image brought a rare smile to her lips. His eyes were bluer than she remember, glowing and ethereal, not entirely human. But they were captivating, deep pools of shadow and light that stole the breath from her lungs. He was much thinner than he remembered and far too pale, looking as though he hadn't seen the sun in years. And though his eyes had always been sad and a little distant, they were much more so now—a heart-wrenching blend of agony, fear, uncertainty, and strange wisdom.

He was an odd blend of the boy she remembered and a world-weary man she barely knew.

"Cloud." His name left her lips in a rush of breath and her hand moved on its own, fingers brushing blond bangs from his too blue eyes. He felt warm and solid, _real. _And she almost wept from relief.

He blinked at her, not a single spark of recognition in his eyes, just painful emptiness. "Tifa?" His voice sounded small, child-like and tears pushed insistently against Tifa's eyes. She smiled, refusing to let them fall.

"Yes."

He gulped softly and extended a trembling hand, touching her face the same way she'd touched his. "I-I'm sorry I don't remember," he whispered, lowering his eyes to the floor in silent shame.

She kept the smile plastered on her face by sheer force of will. "It's okay." It faltered, in spite of her efforts and she sighed. "There isn't much to remember."

He blinked in confusion dropping his hand and cocking his head to one side. For a brief moment, he was the mirror image of the boy from her memory. "Weren't we friends?"

She let loose a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Not really," she mumbled, pushing a few loose strands of hair from her eyes.

When she thought of Cloud she remembered a quiet boy with a sad expression and eyes far too old for his face. He was like a shadow. There but not really, dancing in the corners of her memory. Except for one that was crystal clear—a night beneath the stars when he'd smiled for the first time and promised her he'd make it into SOLDIER. It was the first and last time she'd ever spoken to him and she held the memory close to her heart.

Cloud was staring at her, waiting for elaboration. She sighed again and stepped closer, aching to hold him for reasons she didn't understand. "We grew up together, but we never really talked or anything. We weren't friends …" she paused, searching for a discreet way to word the next few words. " … but I wish we had been." She hung her head. "I'm sorry."

She wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for and neither was he, but he smiled faintly at her and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "Maybe we could … star over?'

For the first time a real smile captured her lips. "I'd like that," she murmured fervently.

His smiled widened a few millimeters, but froze in shock when he felt her arms wrap around him gently and the weight of her head on his chest. Hints of panic pulled at his mind urgently. Only Zack had touched him before and only fleetingly—a pat on the back, a hand on his shoulder. This was something entirely different and it made him feel trapped, smothered. He stiffened unconsciously, air leaving his lungs in a quiet gasp. But she wasn't hurting him and slowly he forced himself to relax, realizing this felt nice, and _right _somehow.

Tifa smiled when she felt him relax. She hadn't meant to scare him, but she'd needed to do this. To somehow let him know how important he'd become to her, even if he could never understand. And to erase the shadows in his eyes, the deep pain unlike anything she'd seen before. Who'd hurt him? For shadows like that didn't come on their own. They were forced in, by tragedy, trauma or someone's cruel hand. She felt anger spark in her soul, wanting to hurt those who'd hurt him, who'd made him forget. She let it go, knowing revenge wouldn't fix the world. Instead, she vowed to always be there for him like she never had in the past. This was the start of something new and she was determined to make it count.

She pulled away slowly and smiled at him again, eyes sparkling. Then she stuck out her hand. "Friends?"

Though he was utterly confounded by her actions, Cloud stuck out his hand as well, grasping hers lightly. She shook his hand firmly, still smiling. "Friends," he echoed.

Zack watched the odd reunion from a respectful distance, relief warring with fear inside. It was going better than he had expected, but was still obviously painful for Tifa. She cared deeply for him, Zack could tell. Cloud's expression when she hugged him was both hilarious and painful. He shouldn't be afraid of a simple hug. Yet another thing to thank Hojo for.

Tifa turned to him, face once more impassive. Again, he was awed by how beautiful she was. Her clothing was nothing fancy—the same outfit she'd worn yesterday, complete with combat boots and leather shin guards, but now her hair was confined in a loose bun, allowing only her bangs to fall forward into he eyes. Everything about her was simple, yet elegant somehow and briefly he was reminded of Aerith. Regret and sadness dug into his heart like a knife. He still didn't know where she was and he missed her every day.

"Zack." He blinked his gaze back into focus, realizing that Tifa had been speaking to him.

"Yes?" He asked, struggling to cover up the fact that he'd been ignoring her.

She frowned, seeing right through him. "Barrett wants to go over the final details of the attack on the mako reactor. We've only got three days."

Zack could feel Cloud's eyes boring into the side of his face and chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. He had _forgotten _to mention the nature of his new _job _to Cloud and his friend was less than pleased about it.

"What's this about a mako reactor attack?" Cloud didn't sound lost, scared, or child-like anymore. In fact, the stern note in his voice reminded Zack of Angeal.

He chuckled, a hysterical edge to the sound, and tugged a little harder on his hair, trying hard to ignore Cloud's disproving stare. Tifa crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "You didn't tell him?"

Zack gulped. Cloud sighed in open irritation. "Zack? What's she talking about?"

Though, Zack felt guilty for keeping the truth from Cloud, a part of him leapt for joy at how _alive _Cloud sounded. Briefly, the kid was whole, complete, and _alive. _Zack wished he could freeze time to make this last forever. Because deep down he knew it would be gone all too soon.

As wonderful such progress was, Cloud was still angry and still demanded an answer. And Zack knew Cloud wouldn't back down until he received one. That, at least, hadn't changed.

Zack coughed into his hand and shifted his weight awkward before answering. "We're going to blow up a mako reactor. This is a rebel group called AVLANCHE and they want to stop Shinra. This is the first strike."

Cloud's lips parted in surprise at the same time his eyes narrowed in frustration, making his features contort, struggling to accommodate the two emotions. "And you _forgot_ to tell me?"

Zack sighed, looking at the floor. "Sorry. I just … didn't want you to worry or anything."

Cloud's eyes hardened into a look Zack clearly remembered from the past, letting out an inner fire that was rarely seen but always burning. "I'm coming too."

Zack jerked, gaping. He hadn't expected this. But he shouldn't have been surprised. Some things never changed, memory-loss or not. Deep down, Cloud was still Cloud. And Cloud could be stubborn to a fault. Zack's lips pressed into a hard line and he shook his head. "No."

Cloud's eyes sparked with echoes of anger. "Zack…"

Zack didn't relent. "No. It's too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."

The anger built, simmering hot. "I can fight."

Zack looked away, features relaxing into a mournful expression. "It's not that…." He let the words out slowly, hesitantly, hoping Cloud wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Unfortunately, Cloud did. The anger drained away, melting into hurt. "You … you think I'm _retarded_, Zack?"

Zack winced at the harsh accusation. Tifa put a hand over her mouth in stunned surprise, wine-colored eyes flashing angrily.

"Cloud…" Zack whispered brokenly.

"Do you?" Cloud pressed, hands clenched tightly into fists.

"I…" Zack murmured, unable to form proper words. His reeling mind wouldn't supply them. But from his hesitation, Cloud drew everything he needed.

"You do." He sounded so defeated and betrayed. Zack recoiled as though he'd been slapped. Tifa looked like she wanted to punch something—namely him—but held herself back, letting the confrontation play out to its bitter end.

Cloud took a step forward and grabbed a fistful of Zack's ragged shirt in a surprisingly aggressive move. For an instant, Zack wondered if Cloud was going to punch him, but the kid just stared at him fiercely and Zack pushed away his fear. This was Cloud and the Cloud he remembered wasn't violent.

"The fact that I lost my memory doesn't make me stupid, Zack." Zack winced. Cloud stared at the floor, but his tight grip on Zack's shirt dispelled any ideas of escape. Not that Zack would ever entertain them. He deserved this. "Just because I don't understand a lot of things doesn't mean I'm a retard. Maybe something isn't right with me. Maybe I'm more than a little screwed up but I'm _not _slow."

He pushed Zack away and the ex-SOLDIER stumbled backward, struggling to maintain his balance. He gulped in a deep breath and bit his lip, staring at Cloud with guilt-wracked eyes. Cloud was right. How could he have ever deemed his friend retarded? Cloud was a mess, true. A complete and utter mess, but he was still Cloud. And Cloud had always been able to fend for himself.

_And I might as well as slapped him considering how inconsiderate I've been. _Back in the truck, he'd said they would be partners. He'd _promised. _Now, Cloud wasn't how he'd imagined he'd be, but he still needed to trust him. And stop thinking so little of him.

"I'm sorry," Zack said softly, unable to look at his friend. "You're right. I … need to have more faith in you. I'm sorry, Cloud."

Cloud's eyes softened. "I forgive you."

Zack brightened upon hearing the pardoning words and smiled at Cloud, meeting his eyes. "You can come," he amended. Cloud smiled faintly. "But, stick close and don't do anything reckless."

Cloud nodded, accepting the stipulations without further argument. Zack sighed softly in relief. Tifa cleared her throat gently, grabbing their attention. "Barrett's still waiting to meet with you. You can bring Cloud."

Zack nodded, chuckling. "Right. We'd better not keep Barrett waiting."

Tifa smirked and gestured for them to follow her. They went around the bar into the kitchen and in the back of the spacious area, Tifa lifted an old rubber floor mat and pulled open a trapdoor, revealing an old flight of stairs descending into darkness.

Zack couldn't resist. "Oooh, a secret meeting room. Amazing."

Tifa rolled her eyes. "Ha, ha. In you go."

Zack carefully went down the stairs, wincing as they creaked loudly beneath his feet, sounding like they could give way any second. But they didn't and he made it safely to the ground, Cloud and Tifa close behind. The basement was surprisingly large, illuminated by a single lantern on a rickety side table. Shadows of the flames danced on the wall and the faces of those present. Barrett glanced up from the round table in the center of the room where he and three others were huddled.

Zack recognized them all—the red-haired girl who'd burst into the bar yesterday and the two men who'd accompanied Barrett on his ambush. The shifting shadows accented the scowl on Barrett's face, making the burly man twice as intimidating as normal.

"About time," he grumbled.

Tifa shrugged. "Sorry. We had some issues to clear up."

Barrett's scowl deepened but he didn't press. "Whatever. Zack Fair this is Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie."

The three waved hello, staring at him curiously. "Biggs, Wedge, Jessie, this is Zack Fair." Then Barrett noticed Cloud hovering anxiously behind Zack, gaze riveted on the man's metal hand. "Who's the kid?" The rebel leader huffed, pointing at Cloud with said metal hand.

Zack yanked Cloud out from behind him, ignoring his friend's hiss of protest. "Cloud Strife. He's coming along. "

Barrett's eyes narrowed. "I ain't payin' extra."

Zack inclined his head in subtle acceptance. "I know. Five thousand will cover both of us."

Barrett snorted. "Good. Now first things first. We got you some new clothes. Those rags look like they're about to fall off ya." Zack glanced down at his ratty clothes with a speculative frown.

"We pulled them out of a dumpster."

Barrett snorted again but his eyes danced with amusement. "Obviously." He gestured to a long table against the right wall with an assortment of items littering its surface. "Our spare stuff is over there. Take your pick and be quick about it. We've got some things to discuss."

Zack dragged Cloud over to the table, noting his friend still looked like a deer in the headlights. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Introducing him to Tifa and Barrett in one day was probably too much. The clothes on the table were simple, but looked well made. Zack swiftly selected a green, sleeveless sweater reminiscent of his old SOLDIER uniform and a pair of loose black pants. His sword holder was still in fine condition as well as his boots so the two items were enough. Cloud moved with surprising speed as well, grabbing a light blue sweater with elbow-length sleeves, which would effectively hide the hideous tattoo on his upper arm, a long black vest and a pair of black pants.

"Done," he said softly and Zack smiled.

Barrett overheard. "Good. Now get over here. We're just talkin' through the last details of the strike."

Zack and Cloud obeyed, squeezing into a position around the circular table. A map of Midgar covered the surface and Zack instantly noticed the circle around mako reactor #1.

"Is that the one we're going to hit?"

Biggs grinned. "Yep. It's in a fairly isolated part of the slums, so minimal casualties."

"That's right," Barrett added, "we want as few deaths as possible. We ain't Shinra."

Zack nodded, secretly glad. He had enough blood on his hands without adding innocent civilians to the list. Barrett's voice was grim as he continued, sadness creeping in as well. "Make no mistake there _will _be casualties, we can't avoid that. But try your hardest to keep 'em at a minimum."

Everyone nodded, pain evident in each gaze. This was the price of freedom. And it was a hefty one, indeed.

Barrett shook of his grief, assuming a business-like air. "Alright. We'll go in by train and knock out the guards. Get in, place the charges and get out. I want it done as fast as possible. Remember, we ain't there fight. Zack and Cloud, your job is to make sure we get in and out safely. Take out anybody that gets in the way, got it?"

Both nodded solemnly. "Everybody else knows the drill. If we get separated just catch the train back. We'll meet up here."

"Got it, boss," Wedge replied.

"All clear," Jessie added.

"Let's do this." Biggs was grinning.

"We're with you, Barrett." Tifa's eyes were resolute.

"No worries." Zack smirked, happy at this feeling of belonging. It was something even Shinra hadn't been able to give him.

"Yeah," Cloud echoed softly, still feeling out of place and more than a little scared, but determined to give the mission everything he had.

Barrett grinned sharply. "Good. In three days, we'll show Shinra what we're made of."

Around the table, fire blazed in every gaze. AVALANCHE was ready.

_Look out, Shinra. We're coming for you._

* * *

The Shinra Building was the central feature of Midgar. Towering above the city like an all-mighty god. Within it's halls, the might of the company lived and breathed, clutching the city in an iron grip. But the building was so massive parts of it had long fallen into disrepair, disregarded in favor of new wings, floors, and other such modern features. Here, in these forgotten corridors, two shadows met.

The walls were damp and moldy and cracked and dying lights struggled to illuminate the dank passageway. It was the perfect place for a clandestine meeting, far away from the prying ears and eyes of the company higher ups.

"AVALANCHE should be moving soon," the first man began without preamble, crossing his arms and staring hard at his companion through the shadows.

The other nodded. "Yes. It's been long enough. I'm sure they're ready to make their move."

"They won't last long," the first continued. "The President will have them crushed."

The second man shrugged. "Perhaps. But they are a tenacious group. They might just survive."

"They have no hope of succeeding. Shinra's far too powerful."

A derisive snort. "Shinra overestimates itself. It would be incredibly poetic and almost fitting for the company to fall to such a small rebel group."

"Do you think they can do it?" The first man arched an eyebrow, regarding the other with curiosity.

"No." The answer was immediate. "Not without help."

"What kind of help are you proposing?"

A subtle, almost elegant smirk. "You know, the inside, unexpected kind." The smirk faded, leaving only sadness behind. "Shinra will be the death of us all if it continues on the course set by the president. It's draining the life from this planet at an alarming rate. People everywhere are sick from the pollution and wildlife is disappearing. Pretty soon this whole world will be one barren wasteland, uninhabitable. " A long pause. "Unless someone stops Shinra."

"A mutiny? What you're suggesting is very risky."

A bitter chuckle. "Of course. It wouldn't work otherwise. But someone has to do it. The president certainly isn't expecting it."

The first man chuckled as well. "Yes. Very true."

The second man took a deep breath, gazing intently at the first, face cast in shadows from the feeble light. "Are you with me on this?"

The answer held no hint of hesitation. "To the very end."

The second man nodded, satisfied. "Good. We'll take it slow; see what AVALANCHE has got up their sleeve. Betrayal is always done best from the shadows."

"There are others who feel as we do."

"Find them, but keep a close eye on them before approaching them with anything. We want to be certain they won't stab us in the back."

"Of course."

The second man let out a tired, almost resigned sigh. "Good. It's settled then."

"Yes."

The two shadows parted ways, disappearing into the darkness without a word of farewell. Each had a great deal of work ahead of them and each burned with a resolute fire. Soon, they would be ready and they would bring the company that had taken so much from the world to its knees.

_We're coming for you, Mr. President. You'll never know what hit you._

* * *

That's all for now. Coming up next--AVALANCHE strikes and Cloud has some technical difficulties.

Five reviews for an update? You guys can do it! I have faith in you!


	7. VII: The Wrath of AVALANCHE

**A/N: **Okay. Finally, here is the next chapter! I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, but I've some major medical issues over the past week or so and I haven't been able to do much of anything. But now, I'm feeling much better and scrambled to get a chapter written for you guys! Especially after you left eleven reviews for the last chapter! I'm really flattered. Thank you guys so much!

It's the long-awaited bombing mission. I'm sorry if it is rushed at the end, I was really tired and trying hard to get it done. I'm a little rusty on writing action, too, but hopefully I did okay and this meets everyone's expectations.

**A few notes for this story, just for future reference: **

1.) Except for the occasional healing by Aerith and a few other rare circumstances, there will be no materia present in this story. I feel that it is a pain to write and tends to seem somewhat illogical. Materia works really well in a game but not so well in a story.

2.) There will be no summons in this story. Don't get me wrong, they're awesome, but they're a pain to write and don't really fit in with the story I've come up with.

3.) The main pairings in the this story will be Zack/Aerith and possibly Cloud/Tifa. That is all. And those are set in stone. I don't plan on changing them. Sorry.

4.) Quite a few people were asking me about the fact that there is only one sword between Cloud and Zack. I had it in my mind where AVALANCHE gives him a sword and he simply uses that. I'm sorry that I didn't write this in the last chapter. I see now that I should've. Heh. Oops.

5.) For this story, Barrett has his arm from Advent Children. The one that can be a hand and a gun as well.

6.) I haven't really played the game, only bits and pieces, so I don't know a lot about the finer details. I've read about the game extensively on the internet and grilled my friend about it to, but there are bound to be things I miss. If that's the case, please just roll with it. This is AU, after all. **Grin. **

That's all for now. Again, sorry I kept you waiting so long.

Without further ado, here is chapter seven!

* * *

The wind lashed cold fingers across his face, running them through his hair and yanking on his clothes, trying to wrench him from his precarious position. The clack of the train against the tracks pounded in his head like a drum, a harsh rhythm that brought back so many memories. In spite of the unsafe conditions, Zack Fair felt a laugh bubbling in his throat for the first time in such a _lon_g time. Crouched atop the train, watching the world fly past at a dizzying speed, the ex-SOLDIER felt alive again. _This _was where he belonged, on the edge, balancing between life and death, accomplishment and disaster, with the wind on his face and the weight of his sword against his back.

Giddy with excitement and unable to contain himself, Zack rose from his crouch into a standing position and let out a loud, exuberant whoop. The wind snatched it away the second it left his lips, but he could imagine Barrett rolling his eyes at his unprofessional manner had he heard it. That man needed to learn how to loosen up. He was worse than Angeal. The thought of his old mentor elicited a sharp prick of pain in his already bleeding heart, but he ignored it, forcing it back into the shadows with the rest of his past. He needed to focus on the present, and the future.

The train gradually decreased its speed, rolling to a halt in the station with a loud screech of breaks and an expulsion of steam. Like shadows, the AVALANCHE members slipped from their various hiding places on the train, swiftly knocking out the two station guards. Zack hog-tied them and dragged them into a dark corner of the platform, hoping they would escape notice for a while.

"Zack…" Cloud beckoned him from the end of the platform, eyes urgent.

Zack hurried forward, searching the shadows for any signs of back up. Two Shinra guards tore around the corner, drawing their guns as they moved. The unfortunate grunts didn't get five steps into the station before they were knocked unconscious by a swift kick to the head from Tifa and a metal fist to the face from Barrett. Zack paused above the still forms, shaking his head and arching an eyebrow at Barrett.

"What do you need me for again?" He quipped, crossing his arms.

Barrett huffed. "Later on, security'll get more tight."

Zack snorted. "Maybe."

Barrett ignored him, turning to the small group. Only Wedge was absent. An unfortunate accident the day before had rendered him unable to accompany them on the mission, so he was left behind on babysitting duty, much to his annoyance. Tifa took his place, dusting off her gloves and silently relishing the chance to see a little action again.

"Alright, we're gonna split up. Tifa, go with Zack, Jessie with Biggs, and Spiky with me."

Cloud's eyes widened at the idea of being alone with Barrett and his face drained of color, turning pallid. Zack jumped to his friend's defense, knowing Cloud would have a heart attack if left in Barrett's care for too long.

"How about Cloud goes with Tifa and I go with Barrett?"

Barrett scowled, upset that someone was questioning his orders. A glance at Cloud and his suddenly ghost-like complexion changed his mind. Sighing in exasperation, he nodded his assent. "Fine. Now let's get movin', people."

Jessie was already kneeling in front of the security box on the gate, fiddling with it using strange tools Zack didn't recognize or try to understand. He was only here to beat up Shinra guards, which was fine with him. Whatever she did worked, for after a precious minute of labor, the gate slid open. Barrett motioned everyone through.

"Remember, our target is the North Mako Reactor. Meet at the bridge."

Biggs and Jess turned left, disappearing into a maze of streets while Barrett and Zack darted left, down a twisting alley. Cloud paused, staring up at the huge mako reactor that stretched toward the sky, green gas drifting ominously from the top, spreading poison into the air. It looked dark and foreboding, yet oddly familiar, and Cloud struggled to fight off the strange mixture of fear and déjà vu churning through him.

"Cloud?" He turned, wrenching his gaze from the towering monstrosity to his partner. She was waiting for him a few feet up the street, hands on her slender hips, an eyebrow arched. She wasn't wearing red today, he noticed, but a brown shirt and boots and black pants, blending in with the shadows. He still wasn't sure what to feel around her, but he liked her presence more than Barrett's.

"Cloud?" She said again, a hint of impatience present in her voice.

He winced, forcing himself to focus on the present. "Sorry."

He hurried to catch up with her. "All of this is pretty overwhelming."

She shot him a sympathetic look. "I bet. I was overwhelmed when I first came here. You get used to it in time."

He tried to smile, but it didn't come out quite as well as he'd hoped, leaning more toward a tired grimace. "Thanks."

She turned a corner, navigating the streets like an expert. There was a sparkle in her eyes that had been lacking before—the same fire currently burning in Zack's gaze. Cloud contemplated this, wondering what it could mean. "Tifa…" He paused when she glanced sideways at him, still uncertain about how to talk to her. "You seem more … alive."

She chuckled but it sounded bitter rather than happy. "I'm not alive. Not by far. Most of the time, I feel like I'm just drifting through life, barely existing."

Cloud frowned, glancing away toward the buildings on his left. "You're more alive than me," he murmured.

Tifa caught his words and winced. "Maybe. I guess … I'm just glad to have something to fight for."

Cloud looked back over at her, contemplating her words. "I guess that does make a difference."

Tifa turned another corner, heading steadily deeper into Midgar. "What are you fighting for?"

Cloud's face twisted in confusion and pain, making Tifa regret her question. But after a moment, his features softened again and he sighed, sounding weary. "I don't know. I barely know who I am. It's hard to know where you stand, when you don't even know who you are."

Tifa had no answer to that. Instead she picked up her pace, moving into a fast jog. "Come on, Barrett'll be mad if we're late."

Cloud shuddered at the thought of Barrett angry and followed, keeping up with her easily. "Do you like fighting?" He asked.

Tifa lifted one gloved hand and waved it in a careless gesture. The fingerless glove was old leather, brown, with black strips on the knuckles and wrist. A long black sleeve extended to her upper arm and a metal plate protected the elbow. With her hair pulled back and her no nonsense clothes, she looked every inch a warrior. Cloud wondered if she'd ever looked like just a girl. There was a hazy memory of her in his brain—a grainy, barely-there image of a cowgirl outfit, but it seemed so ridiculous he dismissed it without second thought. He paused, realizing how much he had been thinking about her since he met her a mere three days ago.

_Why am I so fascinated by her?_

She spoke, grabbing his attention. "No, not really. But I hate feeling useless and I want to save this planet, so I will fight. I think people should fight if they have to, not because they want to."

"Like Shinra," Cloud muttered.

Tifa nodded in bitter agreement.

They were silent the rest of the way and soon arrived at the bridge, greeted by a dark glare from their leader.

"Where've you two been? Decided to grab dinner on the way over here?"

Tifa huffed, crossing her arms. "We got here as fast as we could."

Barrett's arched eyebrows said he didn't believe her in the slightest but he remained quiet, choosing to focus on the matters at hand. Biggs was working on the lock to the gate, fingers flying deftly. His work was rewarded by a sharp hiss and the quiet creak of the gate sliding open. The small group hurried through, letting it slide shut behind them with an ominous click.

They moved forward quickly, going through the security doors as fast as possible, though each one took a couple seconds for Biggs to crack. They made it through unhindered, however, running into only one patrol by the elevator that Zack dealt with easily, knocking them unconscious before they could blink. Biggs swiftly overrode the code and the doors slid open, revealing a thankfully empty elevator. The rebel group crowded inside, Barrett's bulk making it a tight squeeze. Zack could barely breathe, pressed up against the back wall with Tifa's elbow in his stomach. Displaying skillful maneuvering, Jessie managed to push the button and the lift descended, groaning loudly.

After a tense few minutes, the elevator stopped and the doors opened, allowing them to tumble out in an awkward tangle of limbs. Zack brushed himself off, checking for guards and seeing none. Barrett barked orders hurriedly, unwilling to stay in one spot too long. "Biggs, stay here. Keep watch. Everyone else follow me. Zack in the front, Tifa and Jessie behind me and Spiky in back."

Cloud blinked. "It's Cloud." He didn't sound offended, merely confused. Zack sighed mentally, deciding that he needed to explain to his friend the purpose of nicknames when the mission was over.

Barrett ignored him and the group started forward, pausing at the top of the ladder that would start their descent into the heart of the reactor. A green glow from the mako permeated the air, giving the place the look of something from a horror movie. Tifa peered over the edge, staring down nervously at the levels below. Zack noted her apprehension and gleefully pounced on it.

"Afraid, Lockhart?" He teased.

She clenched a hand into a fist and raised it threateningly. "Shut up, Fair."

Barrett motioned impatiently. "Kid, you're up."

Zack climbed down the ladder with practiced ease, starting the journey. It was an arduous one, forcing them to slowly navigate narrow girders and beams, walk down twisting staircases, and climb down slick ladders. Gradually, a conversation started—the group desperately needing an outlet for their tension.

"Why do you call me Spiky?" Cloud began hesitantly.

Jessie answered for Barrett, who was occupied with getting his bulky frame down a narrow ladder without slipping and crushing Zack. "It's the hair."

Cloud touched his hair gingerly, grabbing a piece and crossing his eyes to examine it. "I … see."

"So what do you do to it to make it stick up like that?" Jessie's eyes were alight with curiosity.

Cloud started down the ladder. "Nothing."

Jessie gaped up at him. "Nothing? It's natural?"

Cloud nodded. "Yeah."

Tifa chuckled. "It's always been that way."

Cloud shot her a peculiar look but said nothing. Jessie whistled in amazement. "Awesome. It reminds me of a chocobo."

Cloud blinked in confusion, following Jessie down a winding staircase, trying to keep his balance on the surprisingly slick metal. _It must be all the vapor in the air. _"What's a chocobo?"

Jesse glanced over her shoulder with an expression of astonishment, lips parted in comical surprise. "You've never seen a chocobo?"

Cloud shook his head, eyes dark. "I don't remember."

"Oh," Jessie gripped another ladder, hurrying down. The glow was more intense now, vapor permeating the air. "Well, they're big birds and they're yellow and you ride them around and your hair reminds me of one."

Tifa chuckled from the bottom of the ladder. Cloud slid the last couple rungs to the ground. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

Jessie shrugged carelessly. "Neither. Just an observation."

Zack's laughter drifted back towards them. "Don't listen to her, Cloud. Chocobo's are the stupidest things on the planet."

Cloud blinked and glanced at Jessie. "So … you _are_ insulting me?"

Jessie rapidly shook her head. "No! That's not what I meant."

"Keep it down back there! What is this, a social gatherin' or a bombin' mission?!"

In the face of Barrett's outrage, everyone quieted. Zack hid a grin behind his hand while Tifa and Jessie struggled to contain their laughter and Cloud simply clamped his mouth shut in quiet terror.

* * *

Soon, they stood on a platform, staring down at the one ladder that separated them from the core of the reactor. All the humor drained rapidly from them as the enormity of their mission hit them in the face with the force of a tidal wave. A heavy silence took control of the group as they stood side by side, regarding each other in the green light.

"Alright," Barrett began at last. "Zack and Jessie go down and set the bomb. We'll wait up here for ya."

Zack nodded and gestured for Jessie to take the lead. She complied, descending the ladder as swiftly as possible. Once Zack reached the ground, he frowned at the narrow bridge suspended above the hissing mako below. Pure mako would fry you to a crisp if you touched it. Zack shivered, remembering green eyes wild with insanity and cold hard steel sliding deep into him. That night had felt like the end of everything—the final tragic act of an age-old story.

_And yet … I'm still standing. _

"Zack?"

Zack jerked himself out of the darkness of his memory, managing to smile at Jessie, who was watching him apprehensively from the middle of the bridge. "Sorry. I just don't like mako reactors. Nothing good ever happens in them."

Jessie chuckled dryly. "I guess you're right."

She knelt by the steel door protecting the very core of the reactor, pulling a bomb from her bag. Taking a deep breath, she began entering a code with shaky fingers.

This was it…

* * *

Up on the platform above, Cloud stared not at Zack and Jessie but the swirling mako below him, an endless green sea. All of this felt so … familiar. But he didn't know why. Had he been in a reactor before? For some reason, the only emotion he could associate with this place was fear. And when he closed his eyes, images flashed before them rapidly—green eyes, silver hair, a blurred face twisted into a snarl of rage, a long sword, bodies, _pain _… so much pain…

_Are these … memories? _

But they were gone before he could hold onto them, slipping through his fingers like water and trickling back into the darkness, leaving only an aching emptiness behind. He sighed in faint frustration, ignoring Tifa's questioning glance. Someday, he would remember. Someday, he would know who Cloud Strife was. But for now, he was simply a blank slate … with a mission he couldn't afford to screw up.

_Focus._

* * *

"That's it!" Jessie stood, a triumphant smile gracing her features. "Let's get out of here."

Zack barely heard her words, far too preoccupied by the red lights flashing ominously overhead. Red lights were _never _a good thing. "That's great. We should definitely get moving," he muttered absently, straining to hear any sounds of approaching security—robots or humans.

Jessie glanced up at the lights, the smile slipping from her face. "Ummm … maybe I accidentally triggered the alarm."

Zack sighed. "No time for maybes, get going."

She obliged, running across the bridge toward the ladder. She made it halfway to her destination when a thunderous crash abruptly halted her advance. Zack screeched to a stop behind her, eyes wide.

"What was that?" Jessie asked, breath hitching in fear. Zack could only shake his head mutely, alarm setting his veins on fire.

Tifa's head appeared, hands grasping the edges of the ladder tightly, wild desperation in her normally calm eyes. "Get up here now! We've got a problem."

Zack shoved Jessie forward, pushing her to the ladder and urging her up. After a few rungs, she came unfrozen, forcing the shock away, and climbed the rest on her own, drawing her gun as soon as she reached the top. Zack scrambled up behind her, sword already in hand. Crouching at the edge of the platform, he blinked in surprise at the towering robot. It looked like a scorpion, with a sweeping tail, one red eye, and guns for arms. Jessie was on his left, trying to mask her fear, and Tifa on his right, fists clenched, eyes firm. Much closer to the monstrosity, Cloud was standing protectively over Barrett, sword drawn, eyes surprisingly fierce. The rebel leader was picking himself up, wiping away blood from a gash on his head.

"Not good," Zack breathed. "What is that thing?"

"One of the latest security models," Jessie managed to answer. "The technology department has been busy. This one just came out a few months ago, apparently."

"How strong is it?"

Jessie shook her head. "Its guns are rapid firing, it can release gas from its head somewhere, and its tail can easily break bones, but it's slow and from what I hear, they haven't perfected the armor yet."

"That's a nice advantage," Tifa muttered, watching Cloud and Barrett slowly backing away, towards the huddled trio.

They made it only three steps before the robot moved, raising its twin guns and opening fire. The group scattered, scrambling left and right in a desperate attempt to get away from the hailstorm of bullets. Zack deflected several with his sword, protecting Jessie and Tifa, who huddled close together behind him. Cloud was doing the same a few feet away, teeth gritted in concentration. Barrett popped up behind him, metal arm shifting swiftly into a triple-barreled gun. Cloud's eyes bulged but he didn't halt his movements, rapidly providing a shield for Barrett, who hefted his arm and fired a rain of bullets on the robot. They peppered the security robot's armor, sending sparks flying in several places. Utilizing this distraction, Zack charged, raising his sword and bringing it down hard on the unsuspecting robot. Armor cracked and bent beneath the sword like plastic and in seconds one back leg was reduced to a sparking heap of metal.

The robot turned, aiming at Zack, who flitted away easily, darting around the robot like a pesky fly. Cloud, using the distraction Zack was presenting, slashed at the robot's left hind leg. His sword, though not nearly as strong as Zack's, left a considerable mark. Barrett shot at the robot's head again and it swiveled, trying to lock onto a target. Zack smirked. They were winning.

Jessie's frantic shout, carrying above the thunder of combat, deflated his euphoria. "We don't have time for this! The bomb's set to blow in ten minutes! We have to get out of here _now!" _

Zack froze, shock overriding his instincts for a brief instant. An instant was all it took. The robot locked on and Zack was jolted back to awareness by Cloud's scream of warning. He barely dodged, throwing himself out of the way and wincing when a bullet grazed his arm and thigh. He hit the metal platform hard, skidding several feet and slammed into the wall, panting.

_Ow…_

Footsteps pounded in his ears and Cloud's worried face soon came into view, stained by blood dripping from a nasty gash above his eye. "Zack!"

"I'm fine," Zack hissed, forcing himself to his feet. The pain really wasn't bad, nothing compared to what he'd dealt with for the past five years. "Just a little dazed."

Zack frowned at the gash on Cloud's forehead and the nasty scrape on one cheek. "You okay?"

Cloud tilted his head in confusion. "What?"

"You're bleeding. Looks like you gashed up your forehead pretty bad. And one cheek. And your arm." He pointed down to a bleeding cut on Cloud's forearm. Cloud frowned, brushing his fingers against the cut.

"I don't feel anything," He mumbled.

Zack's eyes widened. "Nothing?"

"Nothing." Cloud affirmed.

Zack wanted to question him further, but there simply wasn't time. The rest of the group was yelling at them to hurry up and help. The clock was ticking fast. They needed to get moving.

Barrett had managed to knock off one of the robot's arms and Jessie had damaged another leg but it was still a formidable target. The girl had blood on her side and one knee and Barrett looked as though he'd been nicked by a bullet, too. Tifa was sporting a cut on one cheek and arm and everyone was tired and stressed beyond belief. Fortunately, they were given a golden opportunity to make their escape.

"Run!" Barrett yelled when the security robot paused, hindered by its damaged appendages.

Everyone swiftly followed his order, scrambling away from the robot and hauling themselves up the first ladder as quickly as they were able. A mad dash through the reactor followed as the group charged upward, scaling staircases and ladders with surprising speed, pushed on by adrenaline and the beginnings of terror.

Biggs raised an eyebrow at them when they finally climbed up the last ladder, pausing to catch their breath in front of the elevator. "What happened to you guys?"

Jessie managed a grin. "We ran into one of Shinra's new security robots."

Biggs whistled, concern leaking into normally hard eyes. "You guys seem pretty banged up."

Tifa waved a hand in a negative gesture, forcing words out between wheezing breaths. "We're … fine. Just a little … scratched up. "

Zack let out a sharp, breathless laugh, unable to contain himself. "We're the luckiest people on the planet."

Biggs chuckled. "I'll say."

Barrett shook his head, raining on the parade as usual. "We ain't outta the woods yet. Let's get movin' people. This reactor's about to become scrap metal."

* * *

By some miracle, the ragged group made it back to the main level, through the security doors, and out into the streets of Midgar before the reactor blew. The explosion turned the world upside down, rocking the ground beneath them, searing them with hot air, choking them with smoke, and bursting their eardrums with its earth-shattering roar. When everything finally subsided, the group lay on the pavement for a long moment, only meters away from the twisted remains of the bridge, struggling to draw air into their aching lungs and figure out if they were still alive.

At last, Barrett spoke wearily. "Who ain't dead? Sound off."

Five voices groaned in response to his question and Barrett grinned in spite of the current situation. "Everybody's alive. The reactor's gone. Mission: success!" He cheered, pounding the pavement with his metal fist in excitement.

The rest of the group were in far too much pain to share his elation, though Zack laughed a little, Jessie grinned, and Biggs and Tifa cracked small smiles. Even Cloud's eyes lightened several shades.

Shakily, Tifa climbed to her feet, pushing dark strands out of her eyes. "We should keep going. No doubt somebody saw that and Shinra's on their way."

Zack pushed himself up, standing beside her. "They'd be blind to miss it."

A quiet laugh echoed around the group as everyone stood, giving each other quick high fives. Then, they grew serious again, realizing a maze of streets filled with Shinra troops stood between them and the safety of the train station.

"Split up," Barrett said. "Meet back at the station. Same groups as before."

The plan was a good one and probably would have worked fine, but the rebel group had remained in one spot for too long and before they could divide up and fade away into the shadows, Shinra troops poured from the streets like ants, converging on the small band. Barrett cursed loudly as everyone lost each other in ensuing scuffle, scattering like petals in the wind. Giving up any hope of reaching them, Barrett threw himself into the fight and escaping. The rest knew what to do and he was sure he'd see them at the station.

* * *

Zack gulped air into his lungs frantically, tired yet exhilarated. They had given a good chase, he had to admit, all the way down to the station. He hoped the others were already on board the train. It was preparing for departure, steam sweeping across the station floor and wheels churning, hauling the train slowly forward, without him. Zack felt no alarm at this, backing up slowly and glaring at the grunts over his sword, hoping the combination of the big blade and his glowing eyes would scare them away from doing anything stupid. Fortunately, they were smart and hung back, uncertainty radiating from their postures.

Zack grinned at them. "This has been a blast, but my train's leaving."

They stiffened, understanding his meaning, and started forward. They were too slow, barely moving a foot before Zack turned and leapt, landing on the train in a graceful crouch. They gaped up at him from the platform below, powerless to do anything but stare. Zack laughed and gave them a jaunty wave as the train sped up, whisking him away to safety.

He just hoped he could say the same for the others.

* * *

Cloud crouched on top of the train, gripping it tightly to keep from being violently wrenched from its surface by the angry wind. He didn't quite possess Zack's balance and dexterity yet. He was amazed he'd been able to pull off the jump without a hitch, leaving a group of stunned soldiers in his wake. He heaved a quiet breath a relief that he'd made it and that he was safe.

_I made it to the station without getting lost, fought off all those soldiers, and got on the train. I definitely think I can take care of myself. _

Then, Cloud realized something—the surroundings weren't familiar to him at all and the train seemed to be moving in the wrong direction. A sinking feeling replaced the relief, coiling his stomach in knots. A horrible realization crept upon him, making his breath hitch and his eyes widen in terror.

He'd jumped on the wrong train.

* * *

I apologize again if it got too rushed at the end. I'll let you decide. So ... think you guys can pull off ten reviews this chapter? Thanks to all those who have been so faithful in reviewing so far. You guys are the reason I keep writing.

**Coming up next--**More complications for a certain blond, a frustrated 1st Class SOLDIER, and a familiar face.


	8. VIII: Life's Cruel Irony

**A/N: **Finally! After an 11 day wait, here is chapter 8. I'm sorry it took so long but I do have a wonderful excuse called surgery. So, for the past week I've been doped up on pain pills and not nearly lucid enough to produce anything of quality. However, I am much better now and have managed to finish chapter 8. Got it done in no time. Being bedridden does wonders for my writing productivity. Hopefully, chapter nine will be out a bit faster. I'll just have to see.

Thank you to the **12 **WONDERFUL people who reviewed the last chapter! **Twelve **reviews! You guys are absolutely amazing!

**Note: **

_Some people mentioned that I am lacking in a good description of Cloud's sword. I apologize for this and unfortunately I wasn't able to include it in this chapter so I'll just provide it here. It'll be a test to see who reads the author's notes! **Grin. **_

_I bounced back and forth for a while between giving Cloud his Advent Children sword or a smaller, more narrow sword like the one Zack wields in the beginning of Crisis Core. For those that haven't played or seen Crisis Core, I'm sorry. Pictures of the sword can be found all over the internet, so I'm sure you'll be able to dig up an image of it. _

_Finally, I decided to give Cloud his Advent Children sword. It is perfect because it leaves room for him to improve. He can start off just wielding the big sword as a whole and then as he gets more advanced in skill, break it apart and use two swords. So there you have it, Cloud has his Advent Children sword. I hope that helps everyone. _

That's all I have to discuss currently so read on.

And review!

* * *

Panic rushed swiftly through his veins, grabbing his lungs in an iron vice and pushing his heart into overdrive. It pounded loudly in his chest, louder than the persistent clack of metal wheels on metal tracks. He shuddered, gasping, and fought the feeling, not willing to let it overcome him. Bowing his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing air in and out of his lungs in slow, deep breaths and tying to focus on a solution to his current predicament. At first nothing came to mind, just a myriad of swirling thoughts that mainly consisted of, _I'm on the wrong train! I'm such an idiot. I'm going to die. I'm on the wrong train!_

Cloud shook his head, gritting his teeth. _Stop it. __**Focus. **_

The train rounded a bend and Cloud tightened his grip as a new wave of cold air blasted against his face in a vicious assault. A shiver wracked his frame and he bowed his head against the wind, opening his eyes and staring at the metal beneath him and his own gloved fingers wrapped tightly around one of its jutting pieces. Gradually, his thoughts drifted down a different path, jumping back and forth between, _I hope the others made it okay _and _Zack is going to freak. _

_Zack… what would Zack do in a situation like this?_

Cloud grabbed the question before it could slip away and held onto it tightly, searching for an answer. If he followed Zack's example, he knew he would make it out unscathed. Zack always seemed to know how to behave and what to do in a sticky situation. If Zack were stuck in this mess, Cloud thought that he would probably simply wait until the train reached its destination, then find the quickest and easiest route back to Sector 7.

Cloud relaxed slightly once the solution was cemented in his mind. Everything would be fine, now. He had a plan. Blood from the cut on his forehead dripped down into his left eye and Cloud winced, reaching up his free hand to wipe it away. His fingers brushed the cut and when he pulled his hand away, red coated the brown leather. He frowned softly, staring hard at the substance. He still felt nothing, not even the slightest bit of pain, and that unnerved him for reasons he didn't fully understand.

Sighing, Cloud straightened, noticing the train was approaching a tunnel. He flattened himself against the train, pressing into the metal to prevent himself from being scraped from it by the dangerously low ceiling. The surface was cool against his cheek and he bit his lip, trying to calm himself. The darkness pressed in on him and he shivered, unwanted feelings running through him.

Something strange caught his vision, adorning the tunnel walls. It looked like a … checkpoint of some kind. Cloud's eyes widened and he lifted his head, an expression of mingled shock and horror fixed on his face as he remembered what Jessie had told him about security scans.

His day had just plummeted from bad to downright horrible in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Tifa's footsteps echoed loudly off the metal walls of the storage car as she paced back and forth in the small space, worried eyes flicking the door every few seconds. Jessie and Biggs sat perched on a cluster of barrels, staring off into space with blank expressions as they inwardly struggled to repress their fears. Barrett leaned against the back wall of the car, arms folded and displeasure radiating off him in waves. The silence was oppressive, weighing down on them heavily, trying to crush them as it gleefully reigned over the car, daring them to counter its authority by speaking. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as the members of AVALANCHE contemplated the fate of their comrades.

Finally, Tifa mustered the strength for words, pausing her pacing and turning to look at the other three with blazing eyes. "They're okay. I know it. They're probably just in a different part of the train."

Jessie straightened, hope lightening her features. "Yeah! That's it! They just got on another part of the train. Nothing would happen to them. They're both really good at fighting."

Barrett snorted by kept silent when Tifa glared at him disapprovingly. Biggs sighed. "I hope they live. We could really use them for future missions."

Barrett couldn't resist. "Heh, if they die I don't have to pay 'em."

Tifa clenched her teeth and raised a threatening fist, eyes promising a slow and painful death if he continued in that vein. He frowned and relented, turning to stare at the wall in brooding silence. Tifa resumed her pacing, trying to ignore Jessie and Biggs's inquisitive stares. Her thoughts plunged into a circular pattern of reassurance and doubt, leaping back and forth between absolute certainty that they were fine and raw fear that they were lying dead somewhere on the streets of Midgar. She shivered, unable to face that possibility. She couldn't handle losing Cloud again so soon after finding him.

Her wild thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang from the other side of the door. Everyone jumped and turned, staring at the bolted door with wide eyes and fingers poised near weapons. Two more bangs came, loud and insistent, almost frantic. Tifa, realizing that it might be Cloud and Zack, lunged forward and undid the bolt, throwing the door open. She slumped when she was greeted with a blank tunnel wall, blurred from the fast speed. But then a pair of boots came into view followed by legs and she barely jumped back in time to avoid Zack as he swung into the car, landing in a crouch directly in front of Barrett.

"Zack!" Jessie exclaimed happily, grinning in relief.

Biggs chuckled, Barrett grumbled, and Tifa stared at him with something close to dismay on her face. Zack glanced around the car, taking in the faces and noticing a missing one immediately. He shot to his feet, eyes nearly bugging out of his head and lips hanging open in surprise and fear.

"Where's Cloud?!" He and Tifa asked at the same time, shooting each other similar looks of terror.

"I thought he was with you!" Tifa cried.

Zack shook his head, panic creeping rapidly into his mako eyes. "I thought he was with you!"

Tifa put a hand over her mouth and Jessie looked back and forth between the two, mouth a wide 'O' of surprise. "Uh-oh," she breathed. "Not good."

Biggs kept his lips pressed together in a tight line, face impassive, but his eyes leaked concern. Even Barrett looked slightly worried, watching Tifa and Zack intently. Zack was close to hyperventilating and his body trembled slightly with barely suppressed panic as a thousand horrible scenarios crashed through his mind repeatedly. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, and tried not to pay attention to the disturbing images his mind was conjuring up. It didn't work and he whirled toward the door, getting ready to wrench it open again.

"Where are you going?!" Tifa cried, noticing his subtle movements.

Zack shot her frantic look over his shoulder. "I have to find him!"

Barrett pushed himself off the wall, clamping a metal hand around Zack's wrist as the ex-SOLIDER gripped the bolt on the door. Zack shot the other man an annoyed glare and tried to pull free with little success. This only added to his frustration and he snarled angrily, feeling raw emotions cutting him up inside. Why was Barrett stopping him? He _had _to find Cloud. Cloud _needed _him and he couldn't abandon his friend. Not now. Not after everything they'd lived through. Everything they'd conquered. Everything they'd lost. Cloud _wasn't _going to die on some filthy backstreet of Midgar. Zack refused to let it happen.

"Let me go!" He hissed, yanking his hand toward his body in another attempt to dislodge Barrett's stubborn grip.

Barrett shook his head, dark orbs firm. "No, kid. There's nothin' you can do."

A hurricane surged to life in Zack's blue eyes, trying to escape and tear Barrett to pieces. "Cloud's in trouble! I _have_ to help him! Let me _go." _His voice sank low at the end, deep and threatening, dripping with rage.

Barrett didn't budge. "No. Goin' back there will just get ya killed. You can't just rush off. How do you know if Spiky's in trouble? He could just be in a different car or found another train back."

Zack closed his eyes briefly, fighting off the fierce storm of emotions building within him. The strength of them frightened him. Never in his life had he felt anything like this. Not even when he was trapped behind glass listening to his best friend scream. Not even when he stared into Cloud's empty eyes and wondered if he would ever wake up again. Not even when he lay bleeding to death on the cliffs outside Midgar. This was a mixture of rage, despair, fear, and pain that left him shaking from its intensity. He pulled a few ragged breaths of air into his lungs, letting his emotions drain away, leaving him empty and numb.

Barrett's question hung in the air, demanding an answer. How did he know Cloud was in trouble? He couldn't explain. He simply _knew. _Knew that Cloud was hurt, lost, and afraid, possibly dead. Knew that Cloud needed him. He could _feel _it. Almost as if Cloud was calling to him. It was strange and he couldn't begin to understand it, but the trauma of those dark labs and the long, desperate trek to Midgar had forged a bond between him and Cloud so deep and strong they were almost two halves of the same person. He knew when Cloud was upset, hurt, afraid, sad, happy, or in danger. And Cloud always seemed to read him like an open book. No matter how hard he tried to hide away his emotions, Cloud simply looked at him and saw straight to his soul.

"I just …know," he whispered, sagging in Barrett's grip. "Trust me. He's in danger."

Barrett looked skeptical but Tifa stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. "I believe you." He peered over his shoulder and saw fervent sincerity in her eyes.

Right then, looking at her, he knew he had found someone who loved Cloud as much as he did and that love was already building a bond between them, starting a friendship Zack knew would stand firm in the face of life's many trials. He smiled at her, conveying his gratitude in the quiet gesture.

Biggs cut in, standing and moving tentatively over to the tense group, Jessie trailing behind. "We can't go after him right now, though. Not all of us have the skill to get off a moving train."

Zack narrowed his eyes, determination hardening his face. "Then I'll go alone."

Barrett's grip on his wrist tightened again, grinding bones together painfully. "No. We've been through this. You ain't goin' alone. You're just gonna get yourself killed."

Zack scowled at him. "I can take care of myself."

Barrett's frown cut deep lines in his face. "I know, but the whole district's gonna be swarmin' with Shinra troops. Even someone like you ain't gonna last long. As heartless as I may seem I ain't gonna have your death on my hands, kid."

Zack eyes burned hot and bright as the emotions rose to the surface again. "I'm not going to just leave him to die!"

"I ain't askin' that of ya," Barrett argued, somehow maintaining a grip on his notorious temper, an almost fatherly look in his eyes as he faced Zack's pain and desperation. "We'll ride the train back to Sector 7 then we'll fan out and go lookin' for Spiky. It could be that he got outta there and ended up in a different sector. Just be patient, kid. We'll help him."

Zack's eyes turned suspicious. "Why do you care so much? I thought we were just hired-hands and a burden to you."

Barrett looked away for a moment, a slight scowl darkening his features. "I don't know, kid. I guess I've seen enough lives cut short and I don't want it to happen again."

Zack's eyes softened slightly and he relaxed in Barrett's grip again, hanging his head in quiet defeat. "Fine. We'll do it your way."

Barrett nodded and released Zack's wrist. "Good."

Biggs slumped against the barrels again and Jessie sighed in relief as Tifa led Zack to a crate in one of the corners, sitting next to him with a gentle hand on his arm, and Barrett resumed his position against the back wall. Silence once again established its cruel reign over the car as the members of AVALANCHE drowned in their worry.

But this time, their focus was on only one of their comrades and their anxiety was far greater than before.

* * *

The train barreled through the checkpoint and Cloud held his breath, pressing himself as flat against the train as humanly possible, trying to melt into the unforgiving metal and disappear. Trembling, he tried to reassure himself, convince his terrified mind that maybe the security scan would miss him and everything would be fine. It was a fool's wish. As soon as the train left the tunnel behind, he could hear alarms blaring from within and the sounds of mass pandemonium. Gasping, he rose into a crouch, panic swiftly taking hold of him, squeezing his lungs and throat in an iron vice. One thought pounded in his head like a drum, blocking out the rest of the world, keeping time to his thudding heart.

_Get off the train, get off the train, get off the train! _

Cloud's headed jerked left and right, eyes frantically searching for a good place to _disembark_ from the death trap the train had suddenly become. The station appeared in the distance, Shinra soldiers already milling about with drawn weapons, ready to give the fugitive a greeting he would never forget. Cloud shuddered, knowing he could never stand alone against so many enemies. The panic swelled, tearing through him like a typhoon, setting every nerve on fire, kicking all of his senses into overdrive. All conscious thought flew from his mind, leaving only one forceful mantra.

_Get off the train, get off the train, __**get off the train! **_

A small plaza caught his eye, to his left. Consumed with terror and raging adrenaline, Cloud shot to his feet and leapt from the train with superhuman speed. His jump covered an impressive distance, launching him toward the center of the plaza and into the heart of the small mass of pedestrians. His landing, however, was far less spectacular. His body connected with the unforgiving pavement with jarring force, rattling every bone in his body and tearing his skin as he slid and tumbled across the rough surface, propelled forward by the momentum from his jump. People scrambled out of the way, staring at him incredulously. Their faces spun past him rapidly, joining the dizzying blur of ground, sky, and people that continuously swirled before his eyes.

Finally, he rolled to a stop on his stomach and lay still, shuddering and trying to regain his senses. His limbs felt like lead, there was dull ache in his left wrist and a slight twinge in his right shoulder that told him he was still alive. He could feel warm blood trickling across his skin, seeping from various scrapes and cuts. His lungs burned and he pulled oxygen into them slowly, listening to the harsh echo of his breath in his ears. He felt numb and terribly exhausted. Half of his mind was screaming at him to get up and run while he still had a chance while the other half pleaded with him to just close his eyes and _sleep_.

One thought drifted lazily through his weary mind, _Pathetic. Zack would've landed on his feet. _

Cloud snorted softly. _Shut up. _

"Are you all right?"

The gentle voice penetrated his inner battle and he managed to lift his throbbing head a few inches from the ground, peering up at the inquirer. Concerned green eyes set in a beautiful face framed by curly auburn hair stared back.

_An angel? _Cloud thought idly. She certainly looked like one. Maybe he had died after all.

"Are you all right?" She asked again, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Even her touch felt healing, warmth from her skin radiating through the cloth of his shirt and vest.

A shout echoed in the distance and Cloud forced his head up further, peering past the girl and catching glimpses of Shinra uniforms through gaps in the crowd. They were coming for him. He couldn't stay here.

With a soft grunt, he pushed himself shakily to his feet, surprised when the girl grabbed his arm and helped him, displaying surprising strength for someone of such delicate stature. He gave her a faint smile of smile of gratitude, which she returned, keeping a light grip on his arm to steady him.

"Please," he began once his was standing. "Which way is Sector 7?"

She frowned, startled at the urgency in his eyes. "You're in Sector 6, but I think a train is leaving for Sector 7 in a few minutes. Just go to the station and get on the train with the seven on it."

"Thank you," he murmured, dislodging himself from her loose grip and backing up, intent on fading into the crowd and finding a way to board the train without the Shinra troops noticing. He prayed that the next train didn't have the same level of security as the last.

Aerith watched him go, feeling a strange sense of familiarity assault her. What was it about him that made her feel as though she had seen him somewhere before? It hit her like lightning. His eyes. They had been a deep, rich blue, glowing with an inhuman quality.

"SOLDIER," she breathed, eyes widening. Desperation suddenly seized her. If he was in SOLDIER than perhaps he knew about Zack.

"_Wait!" _She screamed, extending a hand towards the mysterious young man, throwing herself forward in a frantic attempt to reach him. But he was gone, had vanished into thin air like a vapor, taking the chance at discovering Zack's fate along with him.

She slumped in defeat, fighting the nearly overpowering urge to sink to her knees and weep.

* * *

Zack tumbled from the train before it had fully stopped, only Barrett's firm grip on the back of his shirt preventing him from tearing madly off in search of his best friend. He glared at the man, trying to shrug him loose.

Barrett smirked at him. "Easy there, kid. Bein' reckless ain't gonna help ya."

"We have to find Cloud," Zack argued, a desperate note to his voice.

"I know. But we're gonna do this together. You runnin' off by yourself ain't gonna do any good."

"I _know_," Zack ground out. "Let me go."

Barrett complied and Zack angrily shrugged his rumpled shirt back into place, a deep scowl darkening his normally pleasant features in an impressive imitation of Barrett's usual look.

"Alright. Here's the plan: Tifa and Zack stay here and search the train station. Biggs and I will spread out and scout out the surroundin' area. Jessie, head back to the bar and check to see if he beat us there."

Everyone nodded, faces tense and serious, each hoping their blond comrade was safe.

"Then let's move, people."

Soon only Zack and Tifa were left standing on the platform, staring at each other awkwardly. Tifa could _feel _Zack's pain and fear and the motherly side of her longed to comfort him. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and took control of the situation, knowing Zack was currently far too much of a mess to handle any form of leadership.

"I'll go this way and work my way down toward the far end. You take the other side. At least he won't be hard to miss."

Zack managed a weak smile and nodded, visibly pulling himself together, stamping down on the whirlwind of emotions sweeping through him. "Okay."

An hour later, their intensive search yielded no results and they stood in the same position as before, regarding each other with equal desperation.

"I didn't see him," Zack croaked. "Not anywhere."

Tifa sighed, sagging forward as exhaustion weighed on her. "Me neither."

"Any word from Barrett?" The same weariness was evident in Zack's eyes but there was a slight spark of hope.

"No, nothing." Tifa ached as she watched the spark flicker and die.

She refused to believe that Cloud was dead. She _couldn't _face such a possibility. Loosing him now would shatter her heart into a thousand pieces. Loosing him now would kill her. Zack ran a hand through his messy black hair, and swayed a little, on the verge of collapse. She knew they were both emotionally drained, as well as physically and mentally exhausted. She felt numb and heavy, like her whole body had turned to lead and her heart to stone in her chest.

"We have to keep looking," A bit of life forced the emptiness out of Zack's eyes. "We can't give up."

She drew strength from his determination. "We won't. Let's search again. Switch sides."

She turned, ready to resume her agonizing search, and froze as blond hair flashed in the corner of her eye. Her heart leapt into her throat the same time her lungs momentarily forgot how to function, trapping air inside. She lurched forward, shoving people from her path, shouting his name. Nothing else mattered, only reaching him.

Zack passed her on the left, reaching Cloud a few seconds sooner and enveloping his friend in a smothering embrace.

"Zack," Cloud murmured in relief, sagging in the other's arms, barely able to stand.

"Cloud," Zack hiccupped, feeling uncharacteristic tears prick at his eyes. "I was so worried about you."

He released Cloud and took a step back, eyeing him worriedly, taking in the cuts, scrapes and dirt. "What happened?"

Before Cloud could answer he was dragged into Tifa's trembling arms.

"Tifa?" He asked nervously, feeling her shake against him.

"I'm so glad you're safe," she replied tearfully.

Touched by her concern for him, Cloud overcame his inhibitions and snaked his arms around her back, returning the embrace. They parted after a moment, coughing in slight embarrassment over the emotional reunion.

"What happened?" Tifa asked, also noticing how banged up the blond looked.

Cloud sighed and looked at his feet. "I jumped on the wrong train," he muttered.

Zack's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

Cloud nodded grumpily, blushing faintly. Tifa frowned. "But that doesn't explain how you got so beat up."

Cloud sighed. "The train had some kind of security system. I got detected and had to get off … while the train was still moving."

Zack and Tifa winced and Zack stepped forward to take a closer look at Cloud. "Anything hurt in particular?"

Cloud held out his left arm. "My wrist. It aches a little and I can't move it."

Zack took Cloud's wrist gently, trying to bend it. It looked swollen and he frowned when he ran his fingers over it. "I think you might have broken it, Cloud."

Cloud blinked. "Really? It doesn't hurt that bad. It's just really sore."

Zack shook his head, eyes full of disbelief. "We'll take a closer look at it when we get back to the bar."

He slung an arm around Cloud's shoulders and the other over Tifa's, giving his friends a brilliant grin. "I'm glad we all made it back okay."

"Me too," Tifa murmured.

Cloud nodded, eyes displaying a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

As one, the three staggered off toward the bar, eager to reach shelter and collapse into a warm bed.

* * *

Cloud was greeted warmly by the other members of AVALANCHE, awkwardly accepting their pats on the back and Barrett ruffling his hair, though he looked like a deer in the headlights throughout the whole process. Then, Zack sat him down and bandaged his wounds, wincing at every scrape, cut and abrasion he uncovered.

"You don't feel any of these?" He asked, running his hand over three fiery red lines spanning the width of Cloud's knee and oozing precious life fluid.

Cloud shook his head, a worried frown on his face and fear in his eyes. "I feel a little pain. But I know something like that should hurt more … right?"

Zack nodded. "Definitely."

Cloud curled up on himself, resting his head on his knees, shoulders quivering. "Zack … I definitely think something's wrong with me."

At first Zack wanted to protest, but when Barrett looked at Cloud's wrist and proclaimed it broken, he had to admit that Cloud just might be right. The thought made his stomach churn and took away all elation he might have felt over a successful mission.

_Please, Cloud, be okay._

* * *

Thanks again to all the amazing people who reviewed. You guys are wonderful. Let's see if you can do it again. Ten reviews for the next chapter? I know you can!

**Coming up next--**Interlude: a little girl and her unlikely hero.

* * *


	9. Interlude: Through the Eyes of a Child

**A/N: **Well, here is a much speedier update! It's not nearly as long as normal, but at least I got it out fast.

This is really just an interlude that doesn't hold too much significance in the overall plot. I realized that Marlene had not yet entered the story and I love her far too much to just ignore her, so this chapter was the result. I hope everyone enjoys it and that I kept Marlene and Cloud in character. Was a little nervous about that.

Thank you to the eleven awesome people who reviewed last chapter. You guys rock my socks!

I'll have the next update posted as soon as possible.

* * *

The first time Marlene met Cloud she was more than a little afraid. He was big and intimidating and his glowing eyes were definitely scary. They pulsed with a strange sort of life that was both fascinating and unsettling. Though, she couldn't help but wonder if his eyes glowed brighter in the dark. Could he use them like a flashlight? At first, she was far too nervous to ask him such personal questions, but eventually her little girl curiosity was too overwhelming to suppress.

Four days after his initial entrance into her life, Marlene finally mustered up the gumption to tug on his pant leg. He looked down at her with those glowing eyes and a slightly baffled expression on his face. In fact, he seemed more scared of her than she was of him.

Strange…

She shrugged to herself and gave him her biggest doe-eyed look. The odd look adorning his face intensified. "Cloud, can I ask you a question?"

He blinked and nodded slowly.

"When it gets dark, can you use your eyes like a flashlight?"

His eyebrows disappeared into his bangs and his head tilted to the side as the odd look completely overtook his features. For a moment, Marlene wondered what she had done wrong. Maybe she had offended him in some way. Maybe his eyes were a bad subject to talk about. But he didn't _seem _angry. In fact, he looked confused.

Finally, he stuttered out a response. "I… I don't know…"

"Do they glow brighter in the dark?" His answer dispelled her fear and long held-in questions spilled from her lips in a torrent. "Can you see things with them that normal people can't? Why does your hair stick up like that? Do you know that you look like a chocobo?"

He shook his head, holding up his hands, eyes wide and took a few stumbling steps back. Again she thought his actions were weird. They seemed like completely plausible questions to her and not hard to answer at all.

"I … I… I…" He choked out.

She tilted her head, mimicking his earlier posture. "Are you okay? Why are you talking funny? Is it hard for you to speak?"

"N-o. It's … just that you … ask a lot of … questions. Really … fast." He managed to get out.

She felt guilty instantly, remembering a previous talk by Tifa and Barrett, telling her how she often talked far too much and ask far too many questions. "Sorry," she said, hanging her head and hoping she hadn't made him too mad.

His eyes softened, though she couldn't see and he approached her cautiously. "It's okay." He took a deep breath as she glanced up at him hopefully. Was he really not mad at her? His next words cemented her hope. "Let's see… My eyes are just like yours. I … don't know why they glow. I … think it has something to do with mako … but I'm not sure." He paused and Marlene waited expectantly, hardly able to believe an _adult_ was taking the time to answer all of her curious questions. "My hair always does this … always has."

"Really?" Marlene interrupted, eyes wide. "That's cool! I wish my hair could do that! Except it kind of looks like a chocobo. Did you know that?"

A tired grimace crept across Cloud's face, but she sensed that he wasn't angry with her. "Yes. I have been told that."

She approached him again, staring up at his face, studying him intently. Now that she looked past the creepy (but cool) glow of his eyes, she saw something else in them—shadows and a deep sadness. She frowned. Sometimes she saw the same thing in Tifa and Daddy's eyes and she always hated it. Whenever she asked them about, though, they would shake the shadows away, bury the pain, smile warmly (but fakely) at her and assure her that everything was just fine.

But she knew it wasn't.

"Why are you sad?" she asked hesitantly, wondering if Cloud would respond the same way Tifa and Daddy always did.

He blinked down at her, that odd expression on his face again. Like she had two heads or something. Honestly, he was weird.

"What … what do you mean?"

"You have sad eyes. Like Tifa and Daddy. I was wondering why. Something bad must've happened. That's the only way you can have sad eyes," she elaborated sagely, displaying her remarkable wisdom that sometimes left Tifa and Barrett speechless.

Apparently it had the same effect on Cloud. He cast about for an answer for a few minutes, starting to reply only to halt midway and begin again. It would've been funny, if not for the serious subject they were discussing.

Finally, he took another deep breath and slowly crouched down to her level. Closer up his eyes were even creepier (and cooler), bright and almost hypnotizing. He sighed softly, lowering the eyes to the floor and breaking the strange spell. Marlene held her breath, waiting for the smile, and the fake, reassuring words.

They didn't come.

Instead, Cloud coughed and began to speak. "I'm … sad for a lot of reasons. I … can't really … explain. A lot of things … happened. A long time ago."

She didn't understand, but at least he hadn't lied to her.

And she decided that even though he was strange and still a little scary, she liked him.

* * *

He thought after that first time, she'd leave him alone and move on to more interesting subjects. But she didn't. Instead, she became his shadow, following him around whenever he was at the bar.

Sometimes she chattered nonstop about the oddest things, speaking so fast his head spun just trying to keep up, and others she sat still and just watched him with those big, wise eyes of hers. She made him more nervous than he would ever care to admit and he didn't really know what to do or stay around her, so he often ended up stuttering like a fool. She never seemed to mind, though, and his quiet nature didn't scare her away.

He wondered numerous times why she had chosen him above all the others to latch onto. She had chosen him over _Zack_, for crying out loud. Zack, who was far more open, cheerful, and confident than he could ever hope to be. He wasn't good with words, or at communicating, and didn't think he'd ever been, but Marlene still liked his presence.

He was never quite sure what to make of her attention. At times he wished she would just leave him in peace and stop bugging him with her persistent, _insightful _questions, but more often than not he enjoyed her company. There was something about her—a life, an innocence—that he admired and sometimes envied. He would never understand how she could still smile and laugh the way she did when the whole world was slowly dying right outside her door.

She was forever cheerful, but wise far beyond her years and even though she was only five, he sometimes thought she knew him better than he knew himself. So he did his best to answer her probing questions, and tried to fulfill her wishes as best as he was able.

After two weeks around her, he knew, somehow, that he'd do anything to keep her safe from the horrors that lurked beyond the bar and give everything he had to make sure her childish innocence stayed intact.

* * *

Cloud blinked at Marlene slowly, trying to fully process the situation he currently found himself in. Honestly when Marlene had proposed they have a tea party he'd never dreamed this would be the result. He wasn't quite sure exactly what a tea party was, but as time wore on, he decided it was the strangest thing he'd ever experienced.

Apparently, one had to dress up for tea parties.

Marlene had searched all over the bar for suitable clothing, but in the end only managed to scrounge up a bizarre-looking blue and green polka dot tie, which she tied haphazardly around his neck. Then, she decided that just the tie wasn't enough and she wanted to try to comb out his wild spikes. He gave up explaining to her that this was impossible and watched with a small bit of trepidation as she went looking for a brush. She was forbidden to use her own brush or Tifa's, since it wasn't sanitary, and had thus improvised with a fork.

Needless to say that was a bad idea.

The fork got stuck in his hair and no amount of pulling could dislodge it, so Marlene was off again, scrambling away in a quest for yet _another _item. She returned with an odd hat, covered with stripes in a wild array of colors that she proceeded to jam on his head successfully covering up the fork disaster.

So here he was, in combat boots and armor, wearing a bizarre-looking green and blue polka dot tie, a bright striped hat, and a fork tangled in his hair, sitting across from Marlene on the floor of the bar with a tiny teacup in front of him and stuffed animals on all sides.

Marlene was also dressed up in the nicest dress she owned and had gotten Tifa to braid her hair and tie a ribbon in it. She poured him juice that was apparently meant to be tea and then began to talk about the oddest things—the sky, the weather, events that she made up on the spot—conversing easily and rapidly with him and her array of stuffed animals.

He didn't even try to keep up, merely drank his juice/tea and nodded every now and then, wondering why on earth someone would carry on a conversation with an inanimate object that could not possible talk back.

Their tea party was cut short when Zack walked through the door. He paused, arms full of groceries, and gaped at them, taking in the ridiculous sight of Cloud in a bizarre green and blue polka dot tie and a bright striped hat with a fork peeking out from underneath.

A long period of silence ensued, before Zack decided that the image before him was funny beyond belief. He nearly dropped his packages he was laughing so hard, gasping and wheezing for air. Cloud blinked at him, not quite comprehending what was so funny. His expression only fueled Zack's amusement. He staggered into the kitchen, laughter echoingly loudly behind him.

Cloud decided right then and there that he did not like tea parties and would rather not have one again. But when he looked across at Marlene, she had the biggest grin in the world on her face. It nearly spilt her face in two, stretching her cheeks to the point of being painful, but her eyes were dancing and her grin was so infectious that he felt a small smile of his own tugging his lips upward.

If it made Marlene happy, than he could stand a little discomfort.

* * *

After three weeks Marlene decided that Cloud was her hero. She still couldn't quite figured out _why _she saw him that way. She only knew that he was. It was more than his strength and how cool he was (though she admired him for those things too) and it was more than how he always seemed to keep her best interests in mind. Tifa and Daddy had the same strength, the same coolness, and the same concern for her, and she loved them both, but she looked up to neither one in the same way she did Cloud.

Maybe it was the way he always tried to dredge up a smile for her and it was never fake, even though it didn't always reach his eyes.

Maybe it was the way he never brushed her aside and always answered her questions seriously. He did all things seriously, but she liked the fact he didn't treat her like just a little girl.

Maybe it was the way he always complied to her wishes, even agreeing to tea parties, hair styling, and make believe stories in which he played the part of the knight in shining armor, the evil dragon, and the dark prince all rolled into one.

All of those things made him special to her, but she wasn't sure if they qualified him as a hero.

Maybe, it was really the absolute certainty that if ever she was in danger, he would put everything on the line to save her.

Or maybe it all boiled down to the simple fact that as nervous as she seemed to make him, he understood her better than even Tifa or Daddy.

He didn't shy away from her unusual wisdom and though he rarely spoke, he always seemed to see things no one else did. And he saw that she was lonely and that she worried about Tifa, Daddy, Jessie, Biggs, Wedge, and him far more than a five-year-old should. So in his own quiet, roundabout way he tried to distract her and reassure her that maybe everything wouldn't always be okay, but they'd all make it out in the end.

And for that, he was a hero.

She hoped one day that she could possess his mixture of strength, wisdom, and courage. (Coolness too.) For now, though, she was content to bask in his shadow, dress him up for her tea parties, style his crazy chocobo hair in the wackiest designs she could come up with, and make up roles for him in her many stories, all the while bursting inside and out over the fact that she hadn't just found a guardian, but a new _friend. _

So, when it came time for him to leave on another bombing mission, she tugged on his pant leg until he noticed. He knelt in front of her and she threw his arms around his neck, giggling silently at his startled expression in spite of the worry eating at her heart.

"You'll come back right?" She asked his sweater fearfully.

"Of course," the sweater murmured back as two gloved hands rested gently on her shoulders. "I promise."

Her fear melted away. She knew for certain he'd return. He was her hero.

And heroes always kept their promises.

* * *

Well that was short but hopefully enjoyable. Please review. All of your input is what helps me improve my writing and work toward making this story the best it can be.

**Coming up next-- **a second bombing raid, a strategic counterattack, and more technical difficulties for a certain chocobo head.

* * *


	10. IX: Strike Two

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix, who had the sense to go make _money_ off _their_ ideas.

**All right! This goes on record for the longest chapter I have ever written. 16 and a half pages! And if anyone calls that too short, I'll be incredibly upset. :D**

**I hope everything in this chapter is accurate and turned out okay. Sometimes writing action can be very troublesome. I had fun writing this, though. Some things in here will be different than in canon, but hey, that's where the AU label comes in. :D **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed for the last chapter. I love you guys!**

**Read on, and review! **

* * *

Alarms blared loudly and red lights flashed continuously, deafening and blinding him. Zack stumbled through the crowded train, pushing gaping passengers out of his path as fast as he was able. The smart ones remained in their seats, watching the ruckus from a safe distance. The stupid ones stood and ventured into the aisle, wanting a closer view. For their efforts they got plowed over by an angry Barrett then nearly trampled by the remaining members of AVALANCHE as they charged through the cars, desperately trying out run the Shinra guards hot in pursuit.

Zack ducked under the arm of a bulky man who reached out to stop his progress. Chuckling dryly at the passenger's futile attempt and trying to keep his head from spinning, the ex-SOLDIER spared a glance over his shoulder to make sure Cloud was keeping up. The blonde's eyes were wide as saucers and his skin a ghostly hue, but he wasn't falling behind. Up ahead, Barrett managed to get the final door open. Air rushed into the train like a cyclone, tearing things from their resting places to join a dangerous dance. Arms up to shield himself, Zack staggered to Barrett's side. The rebel leader was gripping the doorframe tightly and staring out at the tunnel with wide, almost fearful eyes.

"We need to get off the train!" Zack yelled at him above the whipping wind and shrieking alarms.

"It's still movin'!" Barrett argued.

"So?!" Zack snapped.

Shouts echoed behind them, drifting from the opposite end of the car. Whirling, Zack frowned when he saw Shinra troops enter the car, nearly hidden by the mass of panicking people. He swiftly glanced at the wide-eyed AVALANCHE members and took charge.

"Come on! We're going to jump!"

No one seemed to like this idea, but everyone understood its necessity. Tifa was the first to gather her courage. Shouldering her way to the front of the small group and pushing Barrett aside, she took a deep breath and jumped, hurling herself off the train and into the tunnel beyond. She tumbled for a few feet before coming to stop, disappearing from view as the train continued on its course. Biggs and Wedge were next, leaping right after the other and rolling away down the tunnel. Then Cloud got a running start and catapulted from the door, managing to use his momentum to guide him into a somersault.

Jessie and Barrett remained side by side in the doorway, gazing at the blurred tunnel walls and floor with great apprehension. Jessie gulped then turned to Barrett, "How about we jump on three?"

Barrett nodded and Jessie began a shaky count. "One…"

Zack looked over his shoulder and grimaced. The grunts were almost to the back of the train, only a few yards away and gaining ground rapidly. Deciding that Jessie and Barrett were taking far too long, the ex-SOLDIER ran forward and gave them a forceful shove.

"Three!" He cried and threw himself after them, ignoring the thunderous curses and death threats Barrett still managed to utter in spite of his situation.

Zack landed on his feet, stumbling forward a few steps and waving his arms to keep his balance. A few yards away Barrett scrambled to his feet and turned to Zack with a murderous look.

"Why you …!"

"We had to get off the train," Zack argued, cutting off the torrent of insults and expletives he knew were coming.

Barrett muttered some intelligible, but no doubt nasty, words under his breath but didn't debate Zack's point, choosing instead to help a dazed Jessie to her feet.

"We should head back to the others," he said, once she was standing.

Zack nodded, turning to look back down the tunnel where the train had rounded a bend and vanished from view. "Yeah. Before they come back."

Barrett scowled. "Who's idea was that, huh? Gettin' on the train without good passes. Humph."

Jessie coughed, looking embarrassed. "Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly. "I guess our I.D. wasn't as good as I thought."

Barrett glowered at her for a brief moment, then shook his head and marched back down the tunnel, once again muttering angrily to himself. Jessie watched him go with guilt-wracked eyes. Zack placed a hand on her shoulder and offered her a comforting smile.

"Don't worry. Barrett's just _way _too uptight. He'll come around. Let's just make sure the rest of this thing goes okay."

She smiled back gratefully. "Thanks."

"Any time." He began trailing after Barrett. "Let's go."

They jogged around another bend and found the rest of AVALANCHE huddled in a small group, bruised and a little dazed but determined to continue. Zack instantly gravitated toward Cloud and Tifa, checking to see if they were okay. "How are you guys?"

Tifa granted him a wry smirk that told him everything he needed. Cloud sighed softly, shaking his head. "I don't think I like trains."

Zack snorted, feeling a smile pull at him. Cloud hadn't meant it as a joke but it was the funniest thing he'd said in quite some time.

"I don't blame you," Wedge muttered, massaging his neck.

Murmurs of heartfelt agreement followed before Barrett once again took charge. "C'mon we can't just stand here talkin'. We've gotta get movin'."

Jessie pointed behind them, in the direction she, Barrett, and Zack had come from. "There should be a hatch down there aways that'll take us under the plate. We can work our way up into the reactor from there."

Barrett crossed his arms, frowning deeply. "And just how big is this hatch?"

Jessie shrugged.

* * *

"Are you crazy? I ain't gonna fit in that!"

The ragtag band stood in front of the hatch, identical frowns on every face. Barrett's outraged statement was true enough. The hatch was smaller than anyone had anticipated. Wedge and Barrett were going to have a tough time squeezing through. But leaving them behind or abandoning the mission was not an option.

Zack sighed, running a hand through his black hair. "We'll find a way to make you fit."

Barrett huffed and glared at the offending hatch as though he could force it to enlarge by willpower alone. Unfortunately, it stubbornly refused to comply with his silent demands, and his anger intensified with each passing second. Jessie approached the hatch and climbed inside, gripping the ladder tightly. "How about me, Tifa, and Biggs go on ahead and make sure the way is clear? Zack and Cloud can make sure Barrett and Wedge make it through okay."

Tifa frowned. "I'll stay behind too." She glanced at Barrett, then Wedge. "I think it's going to take three people."

Barrett huffed, offended, and Wedge glowered at her while Zack snickered gleefully, eyes dancing. Jessie grinned and vanished down the ladder, faint laughter lingering in her wake. Biggs followed, sliding in easily, leaving the rest of the group on the platform. Zack clapped his hands together and turned to Barrett and Wedge, smiling brightly.

"Alright. How about Wedge goes first since he's not quite as … ah … bulky and then we work on getting Barrett through?"

Tifa nodded, ignoring Barrett's mumbled curses about Zack calling him fat. "Sounds good to me."

Wedge sighed dramatically, shaking his head, and lowered himself slowly into the hatch. It took a bit of pushing and skillful maneuvering with steady instructions flowing back and forth between Tifa and Zack as they struggled to get their comrade to fit in a space that definitely wasn't built to accommodate him.

"Okay suck in your stomach."

"Turn a little to the left."

"Push on his shoulders."

"Hey! Easy guys! I'm a human being, you know!"

"Quit complaining, Wedge."

"You eat too much."

"Hey!"

At last, Wedge reached the bottom of the ladder, scrambling away after Biggs and Jessie, and Zack and Tifa, tired but relieved, turned their attention to a very nervous Barrett. Seeing the ordeal it was to get Wedge through, the rebel leader was having many second thoughts about the sensibility of this whole operation.

"I think I'm just gonna stay here and guard the hatch…"

"Not a chance," Zack said firmly. "We aren't coming back this way, right? You'd have to find us and risk getting picked up by Shinra. C'mon, Barrett, it's not that bad."

Barrett sighed in assent and so it began again, this time with much more cursing, grunting, pushing, and pulling. After what felt like hours, everyone was safely at the bottom of the ladder and the group paused to catch their breath and work up the drive to tackle the next set of obstacles waiting for them.

"Next time we need a better plan." Zack wiped some sweat from his face, ignoring the way Barrett's glare slowly burned a hole in between his shoulder blades.

"Let's get movin'," Barrett grunted. "The others are waitin' for us."

They descended the next ladder with relative ease and then scaled another, reaching a duct. Barrett and Wedge both cursed at the sight of the small space, but it wasn't as bad as the hatch and they both fit in with only marginal trouble. Jessie's anxious face filled the end of the duct, but she jumped back in surprise when Zack tumbled out, nearly smashing into her. He landed in a heap and glared back at Barrett's wide grin.

"Thanks for the little push, but I didn't need help," he griped.

"Now we're even," Barrett replied cheerfully, prying himself from the duct and reaching back to pull Wedge through. Tifa and Cloud soon followed, exiting the small tunnel with far more grace than the others.

"What took you guys so long?!" Jessie cried. "I've been waiting here forever! Biggs and Wedge went ahead a little a while ago."

A smirk crept onto Zack's face and his eyes glinted deviously. "Well, you see Barrett…"

"Shut up, kid!" Barrett snapped, halting the insult Zack was forming.

Zack snorted, amused at Barrett's embarrassed outrage. He scrambled to his feet and offered the leader a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

Barrett managed an impressive glare in return, though it had little effect on Zack. The rebel leader was mostly bluster. All bark, no bite. Though Zack suspected he had never really seen Barrett mad. Flustered yes, but downright angry…

Zack shook off the disturbing image this presented, gladly taking the distraction Jessie suddenly offered by grabbing his arm. "C'mon guys! We need to get moving."

"And where are we going exactly?" he asked her, arching an eyebrow.

She pointed to a huge pipe. Zack grimaced. Barrett cursed. Tifa sighed. Cloud's eyes widened. Jessie frowned at their unenthusiastic response. "Come_ on, _guys! It's not that bad."

"Right," Zack answered dully and slid into the pipe. The descent was fast, the walls of the pipe slick with water and slime, which coated his clothes and exposed skin, sticking like glue and making him shudder. It felt like liquid mako. _Exactly _like liquid mako. Which brought on a barrage of unpleasant memories. He shoved them aside, locking them away in the dark recesses of his mind, as the end of the pipe appeared. He braced his hands on the sides of the cylinder, trying to slow his pace. His gloves couldn't find purchase and he shot from the pipe like a bullet, somehow managing to land steady on his feet.

He mentally applauded himself for this. _Oh yeah, I've still got it. _

Then something massive collided with his back and he crashed forward, air rushing from his lungs in one startled gasp. The solid weight settled onto his back, pressing him roughly into the unforgiving metal. He tried to draw oxygen into his burning lungs but none would come and he felt himself suffocating, smothered by whatever it was that had attacked him.

_Well, this is an interesting way to kill someone. Why didn't I see it coming? Wait …_

"Get … off!" He choked, feeling a metal arm digging into his back and realizing just who was on top of him. "Barrett!"

The object shifted. Multiple groans and a, "Sorry, man," echoed in his ears before the weight began to rapidly decrease and then disappeared all together.

Barrett pulled him to his feet as he gasped for air. The room spun and he felt a little disoriented. Cloud's worried face appeared in front of him, rippling oddly. "Zack?"

Zack shook his head, dispelling the dizziness. "I'm fine," he reassured his friend, placing a comforting hand on Cloud's shoulder. Then, he glanced at Barrett who looked slightly guilty. "Thanks for crushing me, by the way."

Barrett waved his arms defensively. "Hey, you stopped suddenly and I couldn't slow down. Then everybody went and landed on top of me."

Tifa shot him a glare. "Well, it's not like we could stop either."

The corner of Zack's mouth lifted in a bemused smile but he refrained from fueling the argument further, instead rolling the ache out of his shoulders and wiping some slime from his face and arms. "So … what now?"

"The entrance to the reactor is right over there," Jessie said, pointing to a door.

"So we go in and blow this thing sky high," Barrett added, grinning.

Zack laughed. "Right."

* * *

High above the teeming masses and polluted slums, the ruler of the world gazed out the windows of his throne room, regarding the world below with arrogant eyes. The door slid open and a shadow slipped through, nervously crossing the carpeted expanse to the desk, standing in front of the massive throne anxiously.

"Well?" The president asked, peering at the nervous man in the reflection of the glass.

The officer snapped to attention, eyes on the face reflected in the clear glass window "AVALANCHE escaped the train, sir. They are heading toward the No. 5 Reactor as predicted."

The face twisted into a sneer and the king chuckled, dark mirth accenting the laugh. "Good. Continue as planned. I want them destroyed. Preferably _before _they plant the bomb."

The officer repressed a cringe and nodded, saluting respectfully. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," the reflection said, waving a hand.

The officer retreated hurriedly, speaking rapidly into his PHS. Once he was gone, the president of Shinra allowed more quiet laughter to trickle from his lips.

Today was the day AVALANCHE died. At last, his city would be clean.

* * *

_At last… _

Zack breathed a mental sigh of relief once they were standing in front of the reactor's core, huddled together around Jessie as she knelt on the cold steel, bomb in hand. It had taken them much longer to work their way through the reactor than the first raid. Security was much tighter and they'd been forced constantly dodge patrols, skirting around some and incapacitating others. But finally, they'd made it to their destination without causing mass panic. Now all that lay between them and a second successful mission was planting the bomb and slipping out before the blast.

The green glow of the mako threw everyone's faces into shadows, distorting features and eyes, giving each person's orbs a green tint that eerily reminded Zack of Sephiroth. He bit back all the pain associated with that name and willed Jessie to move faster, wanting to be out of this oppressive place as soon as possible.

He _hated _mako reactors.

Beside him, Cloud suddenly stiffened, turning ghost white as his eyes froze over. Alarmed, Zack grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook him gently. "Cloud? What's wrong? Cloud?"

AVALANCHE turned, eyeing Cloud with varying degrees of curiosity and worry. Cloud eye's remained blank, unfocused, peering intently into a world only he could see.

"Make him snap out of it!" Barrett barked. "We ain't got much time."

Zack shook Cloud harder, panic rising within him. "Cloud? C'mon, buddy, snap out of it! Cloud?"

* * *

Everything was blurry, distorted, but somehow he knew he was looking at the past, _his _past, dredged up from the darkness of his mind. He focused on the grainy images with every fiber in his body, unwilling to let them fade. He sensed he was in a reactor. The green glow was unmistakable. The place seemed small and heavy emotions permeated the air—rage, fear, pain, _hate. _They swirled all around, closing in, freezing the blood in his veins. Shadows brushed cold fingers across his skin and he shivered.

Something evil was lurking here.

The metallic smell of blood suddenly flooded his nose, overwhelming his senses and making him gag. He bit back the bile that surged up his throat and scanned his surroundings frantically, searching for the source of the horrible stench.

At last, he saw it, and he nearly vomited again. A body lay crumpled at the foot of some stairs, surrounded by a wide pool of crimson. A girl. She seemed frighteningly familiar, though her black hair splayed across her face, hiding it from view. Two earrings glinted in the dim light, silver flashes.

His heart lurched.

_Tifa…?_

Another figure was sprawled across the stairs, limp and lifeless. Blood trickled down the steps, seeping from a torn black uniform. Cloud tried not to focus on the small river of blood, instead looking for something to identify the man. All he could see was a shock of black hair.

Black hair…

_No_. No, it couldn't be. It _couldn't _be.

_Zack…?_

The scene was fading slowly, black creeping into the edges. Desperation surged through him. He couldn't let go yet! He didn't understand.

_No. No, wait! I need to see more! Why can't I see more? _

The shadows mocked him, consuming the memory greedily, wrenching it from his grasp.

_No! _

Suddenly a face loomed before him, so close he felt as though he was suffocating. Green eyes flooded his vision. Green like mako. Green like the sea. Cruel and dark and insane. Green, all he could see was green. It was consuming him, tearing his soul to pieces. Pain erupted in his chest, setting his veins on fire. Vicious pain unlike anything he'd ever known. A scream clawed at his throat, desperate to escape, but he couldn't let it out no matter how hard he tried. Then, the shadows rose up and hungrily devoured the eyes, leaving him shivering and alone in cold darkness.

He remained there for a moment, dazed and shaking. Then, a voice reached his ears—faint but persistent, full of fear.

He knew that voice. Where had he heard it before?

"Cloud?! Snap out of it, buddy! Cloud, don't do this to me! Cloud?!"

_Who…? _

There was a weight on his shoulders and the shadows were retreating, chased away by the voice, hissing and cackling at him as they withdrew. Suddenly, light inundated his world and he could see again. Blue eyes hovered before him, bursting with panic and worry.

_Zack… _

It was Zack. Zack, who'd he'd seen covered in blood, unconscious or dead.

He gasped, pulling back and blinking at his friend in shock.

"Cloud?" Zack asked, reaching for him again. "Are you okay?"

A hand settled on his arm and he turned to see Tifa's fearful eyes looking up at him.

Tifa. She'd been there too. Hurt and bleeding.

But they were okay, alive and whole, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The rest of AVALANCHE was staring at him with varying degrees of curiosity and concern and Cloud abruptly remembered exactly where he was and the situation they all were in.

"I'm fine," he said softly, wishing his voice didn't shake so much.

"Are you sure?" Tifa ask, gripping his arm gently.

He nodded. "Please, we should finish the mission."

His comrades snapped to attention at this, also realizing the gravity of the situation. They didn't have time to be lingering. Jessie bent back over the bomb and the others gathered around her again, forming a protective circle. Only Zack remained at his side, peering at him with knowing eyes.

"Cloud?"

Cloud nudged his shoulder gently, managing a small smile. "I'll tell you later," he murmured.

Zack frowned but let it slide, returning to the business at hand. Cloud sighed and touched his forehead, realizing for the first time how broken his mind really was.

_How much agony have I lived through? How much death? How much pain? _

_Who __**am**__ I?_

* * *

Zack shot another glance at Cloud, trying not to let his worry for his friend overwhelm him. Cloud had been so cold and unresponsive, just like those horrifying final years in the lab and the long run to Midgar. Seeing Cloud like that again terrified him. But he thought he understood just what had caused Cloud to freeze the way he had.

When Cloud had snapped back to attention he'd been gripping his chest in the exact place Sephiroth had run him through.

Memories. _Painful _memories.

Zack sighed, uncertain about his feelings on this. He still couldn't decide if it was good for Cloud to remember or not.

_Is that really __**your **__decision? They're **his **memories after all. _

Zack scowled at the insistent voice at his head, choosing to ignore the rush of guilt and doubt it brought. Later … he would dwell on all that later. When their lives weren't on the line.

"Done!" Jessie stood, a triumphant smile on her face. "Let's get out of here."

Everyone nodded in agreement, slightly relieved they'd managed to get this far but unwilling to let themselves relax until everything was over. Surprisingly, their journey back was unhindered and without incident. The entire reactor was devoid of patrols and security. This did little to reassure Zack and with each passing minute a sense of foreboding grew, winding him tighter and tighter until he felt like a springboard, ready to snap at the slightest disturbance.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. The others felt it too. They jumped at the slightest sound and their heads swiveled back and forth constantly, eyes roving the surrounding area in search of enemies. They were practically sitting ducks, but could do nothing except press onward.

At last, they came back to the room housing the giant pipe. The group paused here for a moment, huddling close to each other, drawing security from the presence of their comrades.

Biggs spoke softly, breaking the heavy silence for the first time since they left the reactor core. "We need to head up the flight of stairs and take the elevator. Then there are just some catwalks to cross and we're home free."

Zack frowned, sensing it wouldn't be that easy. He had a bad feeling about this and the foreboding was spiraling rapidly down into sheer dread. They reached the top of the stairs quickly and crowded into the elevator. It was an extremely tight fit with Wedge added into the mix. Zack could barely breathe, smothered against the back wall between Cloud and Biggs. The close quarters added to his paranoia and one hand drifted unconsciously to the hilt of his sword as the elevator groaned and clanked its way upward.

This was the prime place for a trap. It would be painfully easy for Shinra to position soldiers outside and shoot them all as soon as the doors opened. Zack gritted his teeth, fingers tightening around his sword hilt until his glove was taught against his skin from the pressure.

_I refuse to die like that. _

The elevator slowed to a halt and the doors began to slide open. Zack held his breath, prepared for soldiers, gunshots, pain, anything … except empty space.

AVALANCHE slowly exited the elevator, weapons drawn, blinking in surprise at the deserted area.

"Man," Barrett muttered, looking around in confusion. "I was sure we were gonna be ambushed or somethin'."

Zack frowned. "Me too."

"Everything's so quiet," Jessie whispered—her gun shaking slightly in her iron grip.

"It's scary," Wedge added nervously.

Tifa lowered her arms slowly, though her stance remained defensive, and glanced at the group. "What now?"

Cloud's teeth dug into his bottom lip. "Maybe they're waiting for us somewhere else?"

"Probably," Zack replied grimly.

"We have to keep moving," Biggs said. He pointed at a large door to their left. "That's the only way out."

Barrett shook off his dread and fear, taking command as always. "Then let's get goin'. The sooner we get outta here the better."

Zack ventured over to the door, examining it intently. There was a strange locking mechanism that baffled him. He'd never been good with technical things. "Uhh … Biggs?" He called, glad this problem gave him something to focus on besides the oppressive stillness and his churning stomach. "How do we get the door open?"

Biggs was beside him in an instant, staring at the door with far more understanding eyes. "Hmmm … see these buttons?" He pointed to three buttons on the side of the door. "I think they unlock the door. We probably have to press them at the same time. Then the door will open."

Zack arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "That's it? That doesn't seem very secure."

Biggs shrugged. "I guess. But it's a good thing for us."

Zack snorted. "If you're right."

Biggs smirked slightly at him. "I'm always right." Zack scoffed but Biggs turned away, calling to Jessie. The girl scrambled over to them.

"What's up, guys?"

"We need your help. Take one of the buttons. You, me, and, Zack are going to press them at the exact same time."

The rest of AVALANCHE crowded around curiously.

"What's goin' on?" Barrett asked.

"We're going to open the door," Biggs explained. "As soon as it opens, everybody go through as quickly as possible. As soon as we let go of the buttons, I suspect the door will only stay open for a short amount of time."

The group nodded as one. Biggs turned back and glanced at Zack and Jessie. "Ready?"

Both nodded, hands poised, waiting. "Okay. Here we go. One … two … three!"

The three slammed their hands down on the buttons in unison and the door slid open. AVALANCHE jerked forward, running through door. Biggs nodded to Jessie and Zack and they let go, leaping through the door after the rest of the group as it began to grind shut. Zack ducked through seconds before the door closed with a resounding slam.

Biggs grinned at him. "See. I'm always right."

Zack chuckled, shaking his head. "You sure know a lot about security."

Biggs face darkened. "Yeah, well I should. I worked in Shinra's security department once upon a time."

"Really?" Zack asked, surprised.

Biggs shrugged. "Yeah. It was a long time ago. A story for another time."

In spite of Bigg's casual tone, Zack saw the pain the other man was hiding. Whatever had happened in Shinra was enough to drive Biggs to blowing up reactors, filled with determination to bring the company to its knees. Zack said nothing, knowing it wasn't his place to ask questions. Shinra had hurt them all, one way or another.

The catwalks yawned before them, the last obstacle standing in the way of freedom. The silence weighed heavily on them, more oppressive than ever. Everything was incredibly still. To the nervous AVALANCHE members it felt as though the whole world was holding its breath, waiting anxiously for the confrontation it knew as coming. The rebels said nothing, creeping onto the catwalk slowly, trying to peer into the shadows of the many doorways.

Zack glanced down at his feet, staring at the gray expanse through the metal grating. All he could see was swirling mist and faint dark patches—the slums, hundreds of feet below them. Something solid abruptly halted his progress. He jerked his head up and found himself staring at the back of Tifa's head. She stood frozen, muscles tense, eyes fixed on catwalk beneath her feet. Zack almost laughed. Strong, brave Tifa who willingly threw herself out of trains and could beat up anyone who tried to cross her was terrified of heights. It was extremely ironic and perfect blackmail material, but he would have to tease her about it later. Gently, he nudged her shoulder, snapping her out of her daze.

She glanced back at him, face white. He smiled sympathetically. "It's easier if you don't look down."

She was too upset to retort and settled for glaring at him, but when she began walking again, she kept her eyes focused forward, heeding his advice.

The final door was close, only a few hundred feet away. But a few hundred feet might as well have been a few hundred miles for as soon as they reached the final intersection the shadows around them erupted, spewing noise and life from their depths. Soldiers poured from the darkness on all sides, blocking off every exit as robots hovered in the space beyond the catwalks, successfully trapping the small band of rebels.

AVALANCHE drew their weapons quickly, as the soldiers in turn raised their guns, producing a tense standoff. Zack chuckled, shaking his head. "They waited until the last minute, didn't they?"

Tifa's eyes blazed with dark outrage. "They're toying with us. They knew from the beginning we were going to hit this reactor."

Barrett swore loudly and colorfully and Zack laughed again. "My sentiments exactly." He grinned at the Shinra troops who stiffened, thrown off-balance by the wily glint in the ex-SOLDIER's mako eyes. "Well, I hate to break it to you guys, but you're in our way. I'd move if I were you."

One of the soldiers near the front, wearing the uniform of an officer scoffed. "We've got you surrounded. You'll never survive."

Zack laughed derisively, genuine mirth lighting up his eyes. "You guys? Please, I've seen worse."

The officer blinked and shook his head, deciding this man was insane and that this had dragged on long enough. "Open fire," he ordered into his helmet mike.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a sword pierced him, the final syllables of the order dying on his lips. His eyes widened beneath his helmet, shocked at how fast the young man had moved, and the air left his lungs in one final expulsion before he collapsed. The other soldiers gaped for a moment before realizing the danger they were in. They began firing and the room exploded into a hurricane of bullets, shouts, and screams. Zack moved swiftly through the chaos, dodging bullets as though they were moving in slow motion and cutting a path to the door with surprising ease.

The rest of AVALANCHE followed, weapons blazing and fists flying. Robots and bodies fell all around as the group moved steadily forward, inching their way to the door. Freedom was in their grasp, only a few steps away, when one of the grunts behind them pulled out a grenade. Only Cloud, in the rear of the group, saw it. He watched it sail almost gracefully through the air towards them with something close to terror pulsing within his veins. Moving on adrenaline and instinct, the blond whirled and shoved Tifa with all his might, sending her careening into Barrett, who tumbled backward into the others, smashing them against the door.

He tried to run but there was no time. The cylinder of death landed at his feet, cutting him off from his comrades. He kicked it, managing to put some distance between him and the bomb, but not nearly enough. It exploded, shooting flames and smoke in all directions, searing anyone close. Screams and cries rent the air, accompanied by the shrieking and groaning of metal as it bent and broke from the force of the explosion.

Coughing, Zack surged to his feet, untangling himself from the unconscious forms of Jessie and Biggs. Stepping over Barrett, he ran forward, waving away the heavy smoke. When it finally retreated, giving him a clear view of the room, he felt his heart leap up into his throat and his stomach curl into knots. A huge section of the catwalk was gone, torn away by the explosion, and dangling from the edge, was Cloud.

"Cloud!" Zack yelled, lurching forward.

Tifa came up beside him, gaping. "Cloud…" she choked.

"Hang on!" Zack ordered, assessing the chasm with a critical eye. If he got a running start, he could probably jump the distance. Getting back with Cloud was another story. But, if he pulled his friend to safety then they could probably find another escape route.

Eyes on fire with determination, Zack backed up. Tifa turned to stare at him with horrified eyes. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Zack snapped.

Tifa scrambled to her feet, face frantic. "Don't! You'll never make it!"

"I have to try," Zack argued.

Tifa reached for him, grasping his arm. Her grip was tight but not restraining, merely desperate. "Please, it's not safe," she pleaded. "We'll find another way."

"Let go," Zack hissed coldly, pulling himself out of her reach.

"Don't!" Zack froze at the sound of Cloud's voice and hurried to the edge, kneeling down and peering desperately at his friend, wishing he could walk on air, or fly--anything to close the distance and save Cloud.

"Cloud?" He murmured.

Cloud sighed. "You'll shake the catwalk too much."

Tifa nodded. "He's right!"

"Fine," Zack relented, rising to his feet again. The rest of AVALANCHE was starting to stir, as were the Shinra troops on the opposite side of the hole. They didn't have much time. Zack growled in frustration. There was nothing here to work with. Nothing. "There has to be something we can do!"

Cloud sighed again, sounding tired. "Yeah. You can get out of here."

Tifa, kneeling at the edge of the gap shook her head wildly. "We're not leaving you!"

"You can't save me," Cloud pointed out with remarkable calm. "So you should just get out here. I can't hold on much longer."

As soon as he finished speaking, the blond slipped, painfully proving his point. Tifa screamed and reached for him, but he managed to grab onto a jutting piece of metal at the last instant. Gasping, he continued as though nothing had happened. "See?"

Zack's hands curled around the rough edge of the broken catwalk until the metal dug into his skin through his gloves. He felt so helpless, watching Cloud dangle hundreds of feet in the air. Almost as helpless as he'd felt trapped behind glass watching Hojo experiment on the blond. At least Cloud wasn't screaming this time around.

"Cloud…" He mumbled, uncertain of what to say.

Cloud twisted and their eyes locked across the expanse. While Zack knew his were a churning mess, Cloud's gaze was calm and subdued. "Take of everyone, okay Zack?"

Something inside Zack broke at those words. "Shut _up!_ I don't want to hear a death speech from you! You're not going to die, you hear me? You're _not." _

Cloud managed a broken smile. "Fine," he said, "Then you'd better come find me."

And with that he fell.

Tifa screamed and Zack hurled himself forward, eyes wide, arms extended for the friend he'd never reach. Only Tifa's tight grip on the back of his shirt kept him from falling after Cloud into the gray void below them.

Zack sat frozen, feeling numb, unable to comprehend what had just happened. That Cloud was just _gone. _Beside him, Tifa was close to hysterics. "He's dead. No one can survive a fall like that!"

Zack moved to comfort her, but paused, déjà vu hitting him like lightning.

_"You fell through the roof. Scared me." _

Hysterical laughter bubbled in his throat and his pressed his forehead to the catwalk. The laughter spilled from his lips the same time the tears escaped their prison and slid down his cheeks. Now, of all times, he remembered. It was crystal clear. The reactor, Angeal, the church, _Aerith. _ All of it. Everything he'd forgotten. And he was torn between joy that he'd remembered at last and pain that it had taken him so _long. _

_Not to mention Cloud falling off the reactor. _

Inwardly, he cursed his memory and Hojo for damaging it.

Tifa's shocked stare pushed on his back like dead weight and he managed to lift his head, grinning like an idiot through his tears. "Yes they can."

"It's hundreds of feet! He'll be nothing but a puddle on the ground!"

Zack shook his head, chuckling as he felt the raw terror drain away. "Not if he has a church and a flower bed to break his fall."

Tifa stared at him as though he'd grown two heads, but he just smiled and wearily pushed himself to his feet. "C'mon," he murmured, feeling drained. "Let's wake up the others and get out of here."

Across the chasm, a few of the soldiers were sitting up, rubbing their heads. Tifa nodded, brushing some hair from her filthy face. "Then?"

Zack smiled at her again as he bent over Jessie, slapping the unconscious girl's face lightly. "We go get Cloud, of course."

* * *

_My arms hurt…_

The thought drifted lazily through his mind, which was surprising considering his current position—hanging precariously from a broken catwalk hundreds of feet above the ground. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten here. The last thing he remembered was blinding light and vicious heat followed by a dull ache in his arms. The catwalk must have given way beneath him and he'd grabbed a handhold on instinct. Amazingly, he felt no fear, only a calm detachment. With little interest, he realized warm blood was flowing down his arms, trickling out from beneath the protective cover of his gloves and staining the sleeves of his light blue sweater. The sharp metal edges had cut his palms through his gloves.

_And yet … no pain…_

"Cloud!" A familiar voice screamed. It seemed distant, far away.

_Zack, _Cloud thought, frowning. He hated worrying his friend like this. Right now, he could feel Zack's fear like a tangible thing, digging straight into his heart.

_Sorry, Zack. I just have the worst luck._

"Hang on!" Zack yelled at him. Cloud sighed, looking up at his hands. Blood was coating the metal, making it hard to maintain his grip.

_I'm trying._

He heard Zack's footsteps on the opposite catwalk and lowered voices. He couldn't make out the words, but it sounded like they were arguing.

" … never … it!" Tifa. That sounded like Tifa. She was okay. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"… have … try!" Zack again. Cloud bit his lip, alarm spiking in his veins. Was Zack going to try to jump?

More faint voices followed by pounding footsteps on the catwalk—someone running.

"Don't!" Cloud yelled as loud as he could, hoping Zack would hear.

Fortunately, the other's footsteps stopped.

"Cloud?" It sounded like Zack was on the very edge of the catwalk.

Cloud sighed at the confusion in his friend's voice. Sometimes, Zack needed to think things through a bit more. "You'll shake the catwalk too much."

"He's right!" Tifa added angrily.

Zack sighed. "Fine." A pregnant pause during which Cloud guessed Zack was searching for some kind of tool to bridge the gap. Then, Zack spoke again, desperation lacing every syllable. "There has to be something we can do!"

So Zack hadn't found anything. Cloud sighed, feeling suddenly tired. This was it, then. "Yeah. You can get out of here." He knew they were wasting their time and refused to let them all die for someone as insignificant as him.

"We're not leaving you!" He winced at the pain in Tifa's voice, wondering briefly how she could care so much. He barely knew her.

And he didn't want her to die for him.

"You can't save me," he pointed out, struggling to remain calm. His arms burned and shook as his fingers began to give way, slick blood preventing them from finding solid purchase. "And I can't hold on much longer."

As soon as the words left his mouth, his fingers slid from the blood-coated metal and he fell. Tifa's scream echoed loudly in his ears as he blindly grasped for a handhold and managed to snag onto a protruding piece of metal at the last instant, halting his fall. His arms screamed in protest to the sudden stop and he grimaced.

"See?" He choked out, trying to sound composed.

"Cloud…" Zack's voice was rough with tears and barely audible.

Cloud swallowed his pain at the heart-broken tone and twisted until he could look up at his comrades. They knelt side by side on the catwalk—faces perfect pictures of anguish. He felt the sudden urge to laugh. All of this seemed so silly, so overly dramatic. What was the big deal about falling? What was the big deal about dying?

Was it really that important?

Zack's eyes held back a maelstrom of emotion and Cloud wished he could comfort him. But the smile wouldn't come. "Take care of everyone, okay Zack?"

Zack stiffened and the maelstrom turned into a raging fire. "Shut _up! _I don't want to hear a death speech from you! You're not going to die, you hear me? You're _not!" _

The smile came, broken but heartfelt. Typical Zack. Always looking for hope, even in the darkest of circumstances.

"Fine," Cloud murmured, feeling Zack's strange optimism bolster his confidence, "then you'd better come find me."

His arms gave out and he fell. A scream ripped through the air but whether it was him, Zack, or Tifa he'd never now. The last thing he saw was Zack reaching for him, eyes wide, mouth open, horror painted across his face.

Then there was nothing but gray and black on all sides. He fell for what felt like forever before finally slamming into something hard, solid, and unyielding. A cry slipped from his throat as pain surged briefly through his veins, igniting long-dead nerves before fading back into nothingness. Lights exploded across his eyes, blinding him, before the world collapsed into darkness and everything faded away.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a church, a flower girl, and a Turk.

* * *


	11. X: In the Arms of an Angel

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix. Lucky dogs.

**Well, here's another chapter. It isn't as action-packed as the last one, but I hope everything still flows smoothly. Again a big thank you to all the people who reviewed the last chapter! You guys always make my day, and keep my inspiration going. :D**

**Now, go read. And review!**

* * *

"_Hello?" _

The voice drifted to him through the darkness, sounding as though it had traveled a long way to reach him. It was faint and soft, barely audible. He wondered who was speaking and where they were. All around there was nothing but inky black. He floated through it slowly, trapped in the shadow's embrace.

_"Come on, wake up!" _

It was a little louder now, closer, but he still couldn't see the owner of the mysterious voice. The darkness was lightening slowly, the shadows dissipating, and he felt something soft and cool brush his skin. He frowned, wondering what was touching him, where he was, and why he couldn't seem to move. And then there was the voice…

_"Hello? Hello? Wake up!" _

Light filled his world quickly as the black dissolved like vapor, pushed away by an unseen wind. More sensations reached his numb body—a dull but throbbing ache, something smooth as silk caressing his arms and face, cushioning his back. Cloud forced his heavy eyelids open and blinked at the blur of colors that greeted him. Pinks, browns, greens, and grays all swirled together in a dizzying combination. He kept blinking, watching with mild fascination as the colors separated and the blurs grew sharp and defined, forming a face set against a backdrop of wood and stone.

She was beautiful and incredibly familiar, gazing down at him with bright green eyes and a radiant smile. "Good. You're awake! I was worried."

"Where…?" He managed to croak out, wondering if this was heaven and he was speaking to an angel. Maybe he had died. All he remembered was Tifa and Zack's shocked faces and falling, trapped in a gray void.

"A church in the slums," the girl announced, still smiling brightly at him.

_So … I'm still alive. What happened? _

"Oh," he said softly.

"Can you sit up?" The girl asked, moving closer. He felt her warm hands on his shoulders and slowly she helped him sit upright.

The world spiraled into a kaleidoscope of colors, forcing him to close his eyes for a brief moment, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself. When he opened them again everything was back to normal and the girl was watching him worriedly. She still seemed so familiar.

_Where have I seen her before?_

"Are you okay?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. What … happened?"

"You fell through the roof. Scared me half to death." She chuckled. "Landed right in the flowers."

He blinked. "Flowers?" Glancing down, he realized he was sitting in a bed of beautiful yellow and white flowers. Many of the once pristine and flawless petals where filthy and torn, crushed beneath his weight. Something inside him ached at the sight of the ruined flowers and he felt horrible for destroying them. "I'm sorry."

The girl looked up at him, confusion clear in her eyes. "What for?"

"Ruining your flowers." He hung his head, staring at his lap instead of her face, not wanting to see the accusation he knew he would find there.

To his surprise, she laughed. "It's alright. These flowers are very resilient." He looked up and found an almost wistful look on her face. "You aren't the first to fall on them."

She looked away, sadness marring her pleasant features and he wondered what she was remembering. When she turned back to him, though, she was smiling again. "Let me check you for injuries. Are you in any pain?"

He blinked, suddenly aware of the persistent ache in his ankle. "Left ankle."

She nodded and scooted down to his feet for a closer look, gently lifting his left foot into her lap and rolling up his pant leg. He flinched, feeling an odd mixture of embarrassment and fear rise to the surface. An urge to wrench his leg away assaulted him and he fought it off with gritted teeth. She wasn't going to hurt him … right?

Fingers brushed his ankle soothingly and she looked up at him in concern, feeling him stiffen and catching the flicker of fear in his eyes. Cloud looked away, focusing on the flowers instead of her probing eyes, not wanting to face the unspoken questions hidden in them. He didn't know the answers, couldn't understand why he was so afraid of touch. It was just another unanswered question among the myriad of puzzles that formed Cloud Strife. Her eyes left his face and focused again on his injury as she rotated his ankle slowly, assessing it from every possible angle.

"It's swollen and probably sprained. You'll need to put ice on it eventually." He nodded, waiting expectantly for her to release his leg. She didn't, resting his foot on her lap again. Catching his puzzled look, she smiled. "There's a pretty nasty cut on it, too. I'm going to bandage it up so you don't bleed all over the place."

"O-okay." He winced at the stutter in his voice and stared at his lap again, feeling a blush tint his cheeks.

"You're the guy from Sector 6, right? The one who jumped off the train?"

He raised his eyes at the sudden question, meeting her curious stare. "Yeah." So that's where he had seen her. She'd helped him then, too.

She giggled, smiling wryly at him. She smiled a lot, it seemed. "You seem to lead quite an adventurous life. Jumping off trains, falling out of the sky, is there anything you don't do?"

He shrugged, uncertain if he was meant to answer her question or not. She giggled again, shaking her head, and moved his foot to the floor, gathering her skirt in one hand. "I don't have bandages, so this'll have to do."

For the first time, he really looked at her, taking in her clothes and features. She seemed angelic, radiant. He wasn't sure what made her so. He didn't think it was her flawless skin, her vibrant eyes, or the way her hair framed her face. Rather, she glowed from the inside outward, something deep within lighting her up like an angel. Her simple clothes added to the image—a full, light pink skirt that ended just above soft brown boots, a long pale blue shirt, and a brown, long-sleeved jacket made of heavy material. The pink ribbon in her hair completed the impression of graceful innocence.

She hummed to herself as she casually tore a long strip from the hem of her skirt, fashioning a makeshift bandage for his ankle. The way she hummed and the vivid sparkle in her eyes reminded him of Marlene. This comparison eased his fears and doubts, letting him trust her easily. When she pulled his ankle back onto her lap, he didn't flinch or even tense. This touch wasn't bad. This touch didn't hurt. It was warm and soothing; unlike anything he'd ever known.

_Who is she? Why does she make me feel so … safe? _

"You're in SOLDIER, aren't you?" She said suddenly, dragging him out of his thoughts.

He stared at her, confused. What did she mean by SOLDIER? "What?"

She tilted her head slightly to one side, regarding him with bewilderment. "You know, Shinra's elite fighting force? SOLDIER. Your eyes, they're a SOLDIER's eyes. Infused with mako energy. That means you must be part of the organization, right?"

Cloud frowned, struggling to process this wealth of information. His eyes were like a SOLDIER's? An elite fighting force? Zack had never mentioned anything about this. "I … I don't know. I don't remember anything … except my name."

She seemed a little disappointed by his response, but it was gone from her eyes and face before he could be certain he'd seen it at all. "Speaking of names, what _is _yours?"

"Cloud Strife. Yours?"

She stared at him for a moment, searching his face for something beyond his comprehension. Then she smiled brightly, eyes warm, and he guessed she had found whatever it was she'd been looking for. "Cloud Strife … it suits you. I'm Aerith Gainsborough."

Aerith. He felt as though he'd heard that name before. That he should know it and it was important somehow, but he couldn't recall why. He sighed softly, massaging his temple with a gloved hand, trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts.

Aerith gasped suddenly and he jerked his head toward her, alarmed by how upset she sounded. She stared at him with wide eyes, one hand over her mouth, features sharpened by a mixture of surprise and concern. He frowned, feeling uneasy and anxious. Why was she so distressed? Was it something he'd done?

"Aerith…?"

She dropped his bandaged ankle and scrambled forward, grabbing his hand, yanking it towards her. He recoiled slightly— off balance and nervous at her sudden, forceful actions. She shot him an accusing look, which only baffled him more. What had he done?

"Why didn't you tell me your hand was hurt, as well?" She demanded, frowning deeply.

"What?" He asked, puzzled. Then he glanced down at his hand and realized his glove was coated red, blood still oozing from a ragged slash in the leather. "Oh."

"Your other hand is bleeding, too." She pointed and he followed her finger to his right hand, which rested at his side amidst the flowers. The previously white petals were painted bright crimson.

"Oh," he said again. "Sorry."

Aerith frowned. "For what?"

He sighed, eyes sliding downward under the weight of his guilt. "Bleeding all over your flowers."

She chuckled slightly. "Well, it was hardly your fault." She tugged his glove off, examining the deep gash with raised eyebrows. "What wereyou _doing_?"

"Blowing up a mako reactor," he replied honestly.

She gaped at him—eyes almost perfect circles, full of surprise. "You're part of that rebel group? AVALANCHE?"

He nodded. Realization dawned on her face. "That's why you were running before. Why you jumped off the train. Shinra was after you."

He nodded again and her lips pressed together tightly as she dropped her eyes to his bleeding palm. "It seems like such a dangerous life," she murmured softly, an odd, almost sad undercurrent in her tone.

Cloud lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. Truthfully, he'd never really thought about it before. It was simply his life. The only life he'd known, the only one he could remember, and he had nothing else to compare it to. How did you define dangerous? How did you define normal? Wasn't a life just a life?

"I guess," he muttered, eyes once again finding comfort in the flowers, avoiding her face.

She sighed, releasing his hand and reaching for the hem of her skirt again. "Let me fix up your hands."

"You … don't have to," he protested, not wanting her to go through the trouble of further damaging her skirt.

Aerith ignored him, tearing off several more strips of pink fabric. "It's okay." She smiled reassuringly at him, tugging his hand to her again and beginning to wind the bandage around it tightly. "I want to. I'd feel bad if I didn't do something to help."

He managed a small smile, gazing at her with grateful eyes. "Thank you."

She grinned in response then concentrated fully on her task. He was surprised by how swiftly and efficiently she worked. In only a matter of minutes both hands were bandaged neatly and she leaned back, triumphantly checking over her handiwork. "There! All done."

Cloud smiled again, a little more than before, and put his bloodstained gloves in his back pocket. "Thanks."

She laughed—a full and pleasant sound, brimming with life. "You said that already. Really, it's no problem. I like healing." Her eyes darkened, shadows creeping into the edges as her laughter faded away. "There's so much destruction in the world, so much pain, and no one takes the time to try and fix it. I want to do what I can to help mend some of the brokenness."

Cloud stared at the ceiling, thinking about the sickness he'd seen in the streets, the grim faces and empty eyes—reflections of empty souls. Death, pain, shadows, and despair—that's what he saw when he looked at the world. And then there was Aerith. When he looked at her all he could see was light, healing, and hope. "I think … the world needs people like you."

She smiled shyly, ducking her head slightly at his comment. "Thank you, Cloud."

Every time his smile came more easily and this one finally reached his eyes, lighting them up with faint traces of contentment. Aerith gave him an odd look and opened her mouth to say something but her words were drowned out by a long, ponderous groan as the large door to the church slowly swung open.

* * *

A long, weary sigh drifted lazily from Zack's lips, floating around the small room for a few seconds before fading away. The ex-SOLDIER massaged his temple, fighting the urge to pass out on one of the beds and sleep for a year. Tifa glanced over at him, the same exhaustion present in her eyes. But it only remained for a second before the warrior stoically pushed it aside and bent back over the small bed, struggling to adjust Barrett's bulk into a comfortable position. The bed creaked and groaned in protest to the weight and one bed over, Jessie stirred, roused into consciousness by the loud noise.

"Zack…?" She murmured sleepily, eyes darting back and forth in search of him.

He moved into her line of vision, gently pressing her back into the mattress as she began to sit up. "Easy there, Jessie. You're pretty banged up. You need to sleep."

She shook her head, weakly fighting against his grip. "No … wanna help … find Cloud."

Zack smiled, touched by her concern. Barrett had said the same thing, though with far more threats and curses involved, when they had told him to rest. Finally, Tifa had threatened to sedate him if he didn't shut up and let her bandage his wounds. He complied grumpily, but only after Tifa pointed out that he wouldn't be able to help anyone if he was dead and he didn't want Marlene to see him like this, did he?

Ten minutes later he was fast asleep, snoring lightly.

"It's okay, Jess. I'll go get Cloud. You just sleep. And make sure Barrett doesn't do anything stupid."

She giggled, giving him a shaky thumbs up. "Right. Jus' tell Cloud … 'thanks' for me."

He nodded. "I will."

Her head fell back against the pillow, eyes drifting shut, and her breathing evened out, body relaxing as it was claimed once again by sleep. He shook his head, chuckling softly. Jessie was so full of life--such a kid, in spite of her profession.

_Like I used to be. _

His smile saddened a bit and he brushed some hair out of Jessie's face, suddenly feeling the need to protect her, keep that zest for life intact. There were so many things in this world that would try to quench it.

"Zack?" He glanced up, meeting Tifa's concerned eyes.

"How's everyone?"

She sighed, but managed a faint smile. "Alive. Which is a miracle. I can't believe we got out of there safely, as disoriented as we all were. Barrett's the worst. Got grazed by a bullet. Everyone else just has a bunch of cuts and bruise and some minor burns from the explosion. They just need to rest a bit and they'll be fine."

Zack touched her shoulder, frowning. "You need to rest too."

Her eyes narrowed. "So do you," she shot back heatedly, masking her worry behind fire-filled eyes.

He smiled. "Yeah. But I have to get Cloud."

"I'm coming with you," she crossed her arms and raised her chin, daring him to contradict her.

He did. "No. You need to stay and look after the others. Wedge can't do it by himself. He'll probably burn the place down if he's left here alone." A dry chuckle. "It isn't far. I'll be back soon." His voice was firm, daring her to argue.

She did. "Wedge'll be fine. I'm coming."

His gaze turned imploring. "Please, Tifa, I need to do this alone."

She tilted her head and peered at him intently, a knowing look emerging on her face. "This … isn't just about Cloud … is it?"

He sighed again and closed his eyes, feeling tired, so very tired. "No. It's … a lot more. Please, Tifa, just let me go alone."

Thankfully, she didn't argue, merely squeezed his shoulder, wished him well, and went in search of extra blankets. He headed down the stairs in a daze, waving to Wedge on his way out the front door--his thoughts jumbled together in a tangled web with one person at the center.

_Aerith. _

What would he find when he walked into that old church? Would she still be waiting? Would she be the same? Had she met another man? Moved on? Forgotten about him? Was she even still alive?

He didn't know and it scared more than anything ever had. She'd been his hope for so long. The thing he clung to when the world got too dark to see, when life got too painful to live. The fact that she was out there, waiting for him, loving him, made it all seem worth it. She was everything to him, _everything._

_But what if I've come all this way just to discover I've lost her? _

He shut the question away with vehemence, unable to even consider it. He couldn't face a life without her.

He just _couldn't._

* * *

Aerith scrambled to her feet, eyes fixed on the door and the black-clad figure that slipped easily through. Cloud pushed himself up and stood behind her, peering over her shoulder as the shadow slowly ambled toward them. It was a man with lazy gray eyes and the reddest hair Cloud had ever seen. His clothes were a mess--a shabby semblance of a suit--and his hair unkempt. He walked with shoulders slouched and hands deep in his pockets, looking for all the world like a bum or a drunk, yet a threatening air hovered around him, contradicting his casual posture.

There was much more to this man than the surface revealed.

He stopped at the edge of the flowers, eyes focused on Aerith. Cloud felt the girl tense, shoulders going rigid, and when she spoke her voice was cold and hard--a tone he never thought could come from her lips. "Reno, what are you doing here?"

Cloud frowned, surprised. She knew him?

Reno didn't answer at first. His eyes drifted past Aerith and landed on Cloud, who stood right behind her with one hand hovering close to the hilt of his sword. The redhead's eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise.

"Cloud Strife?" He mumbled, almost to himself. "You lived?"

Cloud's eyes narrowed--confusion, fear, and suspicion warring within him.

_He knows me? How? _

He wanted to ask Reno, grill him for answers, but Aerith stepped in, ending the conversation before it could begin. "I asked you a question, Reno. What're you doing here?"

Reno's attention snapped back to Aerith and he chuckled, a wry smirk on his face. "What do you think, Aerith?"

Aerith shook her head vigorously, fingernails digging into her palms in a silent display of anger and distress. "I'm not going back!" She snapped.

Reno frowned. "Aww… c'mon, Flower Girl. Don't be like that." He spoke in a lazy drawl, fitting the image he presented.

Everything about him seemed lazy, from his dirty shirt to his casual stance, but somehow, Cloud knew it was simply a careful veneer hiding something dangerous. There was a cold look to his eyes that suggested he could kill them both easily, should he choose to.

_Who is he? What does he want with Aerith? _

He reached for his sword, ready to defend the girl who'd saved his life twice, but her hand on his arm stopped him. Shocked, he looked down at her in confusion as she glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes ablaze. Her gaze told him to stay put and let her handle this. He didn't understand but yielded, dropping his hand to his side and taking a small step back, allowing her room. She gave him brief smile of gratitude before turning back to Reno.

"Don't give me that, Reno! I refuse to go. If you want to take me, you'll have to force me." Cloud could feel the anger radiating off Aerith and was surprised the gentle flower girl was capable of such fierceness.

She reminded him of Tifa, then.

Reno sighed in quiet exasperation. "That won't be hard, Flower Girl. You don't stand a chance." He didn't sound arrogant, merely like he was pointing out a fact.

"I can try!" Aerith cried.

Reno smiled, but this time it lacked sarcasm or superiority. It was real, _human. _"Heh. Same old, Aerith. You haven't' changed a bit."

Aerith softened, anger abating. "Reno … why are you doing this? I thought we were…."

"Friends?" He cut her off harshly, arching an eyebrow. She bit her lip and looked at the floor, answering him with her embarrassed silence. He laughed but it was a bitter sound, laced with pain. "Turks don't have friends, Aerith. We have targets. We have missions. We follow orders. And you're all of the above."

She flinched, but regained her fire rapidly, glaring at him. "Since when do you follow orders?!"

He shrugged indifferently. "What does it matter? Let's go, Flower Girl. Just make it easy on both of us and come willingly."

"No!" She spat. "I _refuse _to go back there and let Shinra do whatever they want with me! You can't just march in here and except me to give up everything. You have _no _right! If you want me to come, you have to force me."

Reno looked tired, then, and suddenly sad. But his eyes froze over quickly and he sighed, frustration sharpening the sound. "Aerith…"

"You heard me, Reno." She pulled herself up to her full height, raising her chin defiantly. "If you want me, you have to come and get me."

The Turk didn't move. Instead he sighed again and dropped his eyes to the flowers, staring at them intently for a brief moment. When he lifted his head there was a strange gleam in his eyes that put Cloud on edge. The blond tensed, half expecting the Turk to suddenly lunge at them, screaming like a maniac. Instead, he laughed, shaking his head.

"You know," he began in a conversational tone, "I feel a little woozy."

Aerith and Cloud exchanged baffled looks, neither certain if this had a point to it or if the Turk had simply lost his mind.

Reno continued, ignoring their confusion. "Yep. I definitely had a little too much to drink today. " He swayed a little, emphasizing his point.

Cloud frowned suspiciously. _He seemed perfectly sober a little bit ago … _

"If you run, Flower Girl, I doubt I'd be able to catch you," Reno remarked nonchalantly, leaning against a bench in a dramatic attempt to steady himself.

Aerith's eyes widened as she realized what the Turk was doing. "Reno…" she breathed tearfully, reaching out for him.

Reno frowned at her. "Why are you still here, Flower Girl? Do you _want _me to take you in? That's fine with me, too, you know."

Aerith snapped her mouth shut and whirled around, grabbing Cloud as she dashed for the back door, hauling him along with surprising strength. The door swung back and forth slowly in her wake and the Turk was left alone with the flowers.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're lucky I never follow orders, Aerith," he mumbled to the stillness and the crumpled flowers. "And you owe me big. I'm sure Tseng's gonna dock my pay for this."

Yet, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care.

* * *

The church was empty.

Zack felt butterflies come to life in his stomach as he stared at the silent building. He had been sure he'd find Cloud here, if not Aerith too. Instead, there was only mocking tranquility and silence. Taking a deep breath to keep his rising scream from escaping, Zack walked slowly down the aisle to the bed of flowers. He paused, drinking in the flora's perfume and quietly reveling in just being here again. This place always felt peaceful, _safe. _He could feel her here, all around him. And in that moment, he knew she was still alive. The flowers still grew. So she was still safe.

His heart sang. There was still a chance. A chance to right all the wrongs. A second go at this crazy life.

_Maybe I'll get it right this time. _

Light streamed in from above and looking up, he realized there was a new hole in the roof. Broken boards of wood littered the small garden and many of the beautiful flowers were crushed, hinting that someone had landed on them.

_Cloud…_

Crouching down, Zack's heart lurched when he spotted drops of red on several flowers. Blood, Cloud's blood.

_From his hands? Or something else?_

Struggling to calm his raging nerves, the ex-SOLDIER looked around the silent church, searching for clues to the whereabouts of his friend. Something caught his attention in the far right corner of the church—a faint banging and creaking. Curious, Zack climbed to his feet and skirted around the flowers, heading for the source of the sound.

The back door was open.

It swung back and forth and back and forth in a never-ending rhythm, hypnotizing Zack for a long moment as he stood and stared, wondering what this signified. Aerith never left the back door open. In all the times he'd been there, it had been closed and locked. So why, now, was it wide open and looking as though it had nearly been torn from its hinges?

_She was running._

His lungs constricted at the realization. She was running. Running so fast she hadn't bothered to close the door behind her. Running so fast she'd nearly broken it just to get outside. Who would cause her to run like that? Who would scare her enough?

_Shinra. _

He closed his eyes, another scream building up inside his throat. She'd mentioned that Shinra wanted her and he'd heard the Turks talk about keeping an eye on her. So they had come to bring her in. And she'd run.

Zack closed the door hurriedly, almost breaking it in his hast. She was in danger. He needed to find her, _now._ He'd promised her, long ago, that he'd keep her safe. Lurching forward, he broke into a run, tearing down the street with long, frantic strides. He moved blindly, not sure where he was going or how he'd find her in the sprawling slums of Sector 5.

_You'll know, _something inside him whispered. _You'll know._

So he listened, letting his heart guide him and praying he wasn't too late.

_Hold on, Aerith. Please, hold on._

* * *

Aerith finally ceased her crazed run in the center of an old playground. Leaning against a rusted slide, she dropped Cloud's hand and closed her eyes, head tilted toward the sky. Her chest heaved as she struggled to draw air into her burning lungs and her legs shook from the exertion but she couldn't keep the trembling, exhilarated smile from her face.

_Thank you, Reno_.

Her smile faltered when she thought of the red-haired Turk and she desperately hoped he didn't get into too much trouble for helping her. She shook her head ruefully, knowing he'd laugh at her concern and inform her that he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

_"Worry about yourself, Flower Girl. You can't run forever." _

She frowned, opening her eyes swiftly and wiping Reno's face and taunting words from her mind. She would be fine. Somehow…

Next to her, Cloud seemed unfazed by their mad dash, in spite of his injuries. In fact, he wasn't even breathing hard. He merely crossed his arms and watched her, concern and confusion blending together on his face.

"Are you alright?" He asked in that soft voice of his.

She grinned and straightened, brushing her bangs off her sweaty forehead. "Yeah. What about you? Your ankle must hurt pretty badly."

To her surprise he shook his head. "No. I can't really … feel pain. Not much pain anyway."

She wasn't quite sure what to make of that, so all she could manage was a surprised, "Oh."

He looked away, eyes roaming around the playground nervously. Making use of his distraction, she took a minute to look at him. He reminded her of Zack, though the two men couldn't be more different. Zack was loud, cheerful, and energetic, so full of life he seemed about to burst any minute. Cloud was quiet, subdued, and serious, seeming very young and very old at the same time. Zack had black hair, Cloud had blond. Zack loved to laugh, Cloud barely even smiled. Zack was confident and bold, Cloud was cautious and insecure.

Their eyes weren't even the same, except for the glow.

Cloud's were the darkest hue of the summer sky, deeper than a well and full of shadows. Zack's were the pale blue of the morning sky, rich with emotion and full of life.

And yet…

Sometimes, when he tilted his head just so or stood a certain way, she thought she was looking at Zack. And sometimes, when he spoke, she could hear Zack in his voice.

It hurt. Oh it hurt. But at the same time, it filled her with happiness. For a few brief moments, she felt close to Zack again and that was worth the ache in her heart, worth all the sorrow weighing on her soul, worthy _anything._

Cloud's eyes found her face once more and she smiled, feeling an instant connection with him. He was strange and more than a little sad, but she could see Zack in him and that drew him close to her heart.

"Who was that guy?" He asked hesitantly.

She pushed off the slide and walked toward him. "Reno? He's a Turk. They're Shinra's elite. They've been after me for a while."

"Why?" He seemed concerned for her and she was touched.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "But though they can be cold and hard, the Turks are human. They hurt and bleed too." Her eyes saddened. "They just hide it better."

Cloud nodded absently, eyes searching the playground once again. "What is this place?"

She smiled softly, remembering Zack's grin and bright laugh. She could still vividly picture the way his eyes had danced, hear his laughter echoing around the playground, making something in her heart soar.

_Oh, Zack, I miss you. _

Cloud's curious stare reminded her there was question still in need of answering so she dragged herself back to present, reluctantly leaving Zack behind. "An old playground. I can't believe it's still standing. I came here with my first boyfriend."

"Really?" Cloud looked genuinely interested.

"Yeah." She ran her hand fondly over the rusted metal of an old swing set. "It was a long time ago, though. I haven't seen him in five years." Her eyes fogged over with sorrow. "He promised he'd come visit but…"

Cloud stepped closer, looking like he wanted to comfort her but wasn't sure how to go about it."I'm ... sorry."

Now that she had started talking about Zack, she couldn't stop. The words poured from her like a river, slowly bringing him to life again--pulled from the depths of her heart. "He was so amazing. I felt alive with him. He made me laugh, made me believe, made me feel loved. He bought me this ribbon." She touched the pink ribbon in her hair gently. "He fell through the roof, just like you. Then, he said I'd saved his life and wanted to repay me with a date."

She laughed, but it was laced with tears. "He was in SOLDIER. He had eyes like yours. Only they were lighter blue. And he had dark hair. And the greatest smile in the world."

Cloud was right at her shoulder now, an odd expression on his face. She hardly noticed. "I miss him. So much. You remind of him."

"What was his name?" Cloud asked, sounding breathless.

"Zack. Zack Fair." She wiped a tear away that had escaped the confines of her eyelids.

"You're _her._" She turned, staring at Cloud, wondering what he meant. He was staring at her with awe filled eyes, mouth open in wonder. "You're the girl he's been looking for."

"What?" She asked, hardly daring to hope. By _he _could Cloud possibly mean…?

"Cloud!" A new voice flooded the playground, loud and _familiar. _Her heart stopped beating and her lungs forgot how to exhale, locking the air in her lungs.

Could it be?

"I've been looking everywhere for you! Thank God, you're safe! I…"

She couldn't see him, Cloud was in the way. But suddenly, the blond moved to the side, pulling her out in front of him. "I found her, Zack."

She froze, gaping at the figure that stood a few feet away. Wide blue eyes stared back and she suddenly felt faint. The world spun as shock turned the blood in her veins to ice the same time her heart started pounding a frantic, desperate rhythm.

_It's … it's __**him. **_

_"Zack…" _

He stared back, mouth gaping open, eyes as wide as saucers. _"Aertih…"_

* * *

**(desperately ducks flying objects) I know, I know! I'm evil. Completely and utterly evil. But it was the best place to stop and at least you can be absolutely certain the reunion will happen in the next chapter! Which I will have out as soon as possible. I promise.**

**Please review. Let's see if we can break 100. ;D**

_**Extra note: For those of you who like the Turks there is now a poll in my profile page! The Turks' dumbest target list! Check it out. And vote! **_

**Coming up next--**a tender reunion and a strange new dilemma.

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	12. XI: The SOLDIER and the Flower Girl

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**It's HERE!! At last, the chapter everyone has been waiting for. Let the Zack/Aerith fest begin! XD **

**This chapter isn't too long, but hopefully it makes up the lack of quantity with quality. I tried really hard to make this chapter as perfect as possible. I desperately want to do Zack and Aerith justice. Hopefully it turned out okay. (Nervous smile)**

**A big Thank You goes out to the twelve people that reviewed the last chapter. This one's for you guys! Thanks! :D**

**Well, read on. And review! It is greatly appreciated.**

* * *

_"Zack…" _

_"Aerith…"_

Time slowly came to a stop, like a river frozen in motion by the cold breath of winter. Her limbs felt like weights, her lungs burned, and all she could hear was the frantic pounding of her own heart. She could only stare, drinking him in, and hope fervently this wasn't just some figment of her imagination.

Deep down, she knew it wasn't.

He was different—older, sadder, with shorter hair than she remembered and a few more small scars on his face, marring his otherwise flawless skin. His SOLDIER uniform was gone too, she realized, replaced by a simple green and black outfit with one scratched shoulder pauldron and his old sword on his back. The clothes were dirty and slightly torn, coated with ash and grime. Looking closer, she realized his face was a mess too—streaked with soot and filth.

She took all this in rapidly, committing every detail to memory in case he suddenly vanished. He hadn't moved, though his harsh pants echoed loudly through the small space. He seemed real, whole. Not a ghost, not a memory. For her mind couldn't conjure up the sweat on his brow, the way his hair stuck to his cheeks, or how his hands clenched and unclenched and his eyes blazed with a thousand emotions—burning her every time she looked at them.

In them, she saw shock, wonder, uncertainty, fear, hope, relief, and _love—_each emotion passing through his orbs in a blink. He seemed torn between standing still or running to her, so she made the decision for him, stumbling towards him, arms outstretched. He blinked and wordlessly reached out, pulling her close. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into the rough fabric of his dirty sweater. A bitter combination of smoke, grime, sweat, and dirt filled her nostrils but it was sweeter than all her flowers because it belonged to _him. _

This close she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, hear the rapid drumbeat of his heart, feel the weight of his arms around shoulders, the pressure of his gloved hands gripping her tightly.

He was real. He was here. Right when she'd given up, he came running. At last, he was home.

"Aerith…" He breathed in wonder and her name from his lips was the most amazing sound she'd ever heard.

The dam broke, then, and all the tears she'd carefully kept at bay surged to the surface, pouring from her like a waterfall. She shook in his arms, sobs wracking her small frame as she clutched handfuls of his shirt in tight fists—still afraid he would vanish if she let go. She could feel him trembling against her, too, and her hair felt damp.

_Tears. _

He was crying, cheek pressed to her head, hands tracing patterns on her back in an attempt to hold on to her and comfort her at the same time. Speech was beyond either of them so they just cried, clinging to each other with both relief and desperation. At last, her throat loosened and the words came, tumbling from her faster than her tears, jumbled together in a broken mess.

"Zack … Zack… y-you came. I t-thought … I t-thought y-you … _Zack_…."

"Shhh," he managed, whispering it to her auburn locks.

She shook her head, determined to finish. "I-thought … thought. … y-you were … de-dead."

A blend of a laugh and sob reached her ears and Zack pulled her closer. "I came close." His voice was thick and heavy, coated with tears, but beautiful beyond belief. She wanted to stay in the warmth of his arms forever, just listening to him speak. "But … I made a promise … didn't I?"

She closed her eyes, smiling through the tears still streaming down her face.

_"I'll call."_

_"No … you don't have to." _

_"Okay. I'll come see you, then." _

_"Okay." _

_"I promise." _

"Yeah," she whispered. "You did. But…"

He sighed and she felt gloved fingers running through her hair, pulling some of it free from her braid. "I'm … sorry. I didn't know… I…"

"What … took so long?" she asked, afraid he'd tell her he'd met someone else, though she doubted it from the way he was holding her.

"A lot of … bad things happened. I … can't talk about it … right now. _Please_…" Pain laced every syllable and she instantly stroked his back, soothing him, heart aching at his suffering.

"Shhh… it's okay. It's okay." She comforted him gently, fingers tracing his spine in an attempt to relax his suddenly stiff stance.

His shoulders slumped and his head moved to her shoulder, breath tickling her neck. She smiled lovingly, feeling her tears start to dry. "I can't believe you're here."

He smiled and lifted his head a little, giving her a stunning view of his glowing eyes. She froze, instantly pulled into their depths. "Me either," he whispered. "This feels like a dream."

She chuckled, wiping water and lingering salt particles from his cheeks. "Yeah. A fairytale."

He shook his head, a familiar twinkle chasing some of the shadows from his eyes. "Nah. In a fairytale the prince sweeps the princess off her feet and kisses her breathless, not collapses into her arms sobbing."

She giggled, feeling like a little girl again, and shook her head at him in playful disappointment. "Right. Some prince charming you are."

An odd look crossed his face and something intense flooded his gaze, burning straight to her soul and stopping her heart for a brief moment. "Zack…?"

He pulled back a little and then she felt lips pressing against hers, stealing the oxygen from her lungs. Shaking, she managed to lift her suddenly heavy arms to his neck and pull him a little closer, feeling him deepen the kiss. It was their first kiss and nothing like she'd ever imagined—slightly wild, bordering on desperate. They both poured everything they'd kept locked away into the kiss—every bit of emotion, every ounce of pain and heartache.

Something in her heart broke free and just _flew_. She felt as though at last, she'd come back to life. She'd been dead before this moment, simply drifting aimlessly through life—the shell of her skin hiding an empty heart and soul. But now, she could breathe again, feel again. In one swift moment, he'd revived her.

When they finally parted both were gasping for air—identical, unsteady smiles on their faces.

Her cheeks felt hot and she laughed nervously. "Well … that was … fitting of any … prince charming."

He grinned at her, head tilted to the side, eyes dancing and for a minute she could believe that no time had passed at all. "Of course." His eyes grew serious again, dispelling the illusion, and he stroked her cheek tenderly. "Aerith … I love you."

Her eyes widened and lips parted in surprise. She couldn't remember him ever saying that to her before. "Zack…"

He sighed and closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face, aging him remarkably. "I … know I never said it before. I-I should have. I'm … sorry_. _ But … it's true. It's been true for a long time now."

Tears fell again, rising up from a seemingly endless well deep within her. She laughed and cried, so full she couldn't decide what to feel. "I love you, too. I love you, too."

* * *

The words were music to his ears, reaching deep into his heart and giving it wings. All his time spent hoping, wondering, and doubting if there was anything left for him in Midgar but broken, unfinished dreams ended the minute she spoke. Now, there was just the absolute certainty that _this _was where he was meant to be.

He was home at last.

He pulled her to him again, just reveling in the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her breathing—everything he'd tried desperately to remember during those horrible years in the basement of the mansion. He'd found strength in his memories of her, but her face had grown dimmer and more shadowed as the years passed and his memory failed.

Now, looking at her, he was acutely reminded of just how much time slipped by him. She was older, sadder, and wiser—no longer the innocent teenager he remembered. Aerith Gainsborough had grown up.

_But so have I. _

She was still beautiful, though. Stunning even. Gone was the blue dress and in its place, her pink skirt, blue shirt, and brown jacket added maturity. However, the ribbon was still there, secure in her auburn hair. He fingered it gently, noting how faded and worn the pink fabric was.

"You still have this," he murmured in awe, touched that she had kept it all these years.

She looked up at him, smiling brightly. "Of course. I promised, didn't I?"

He laughed and trailed his fingers down her cheek, unable to get enough of her. His lips still tingled from their kiss and he felt exhilarated just being close to her. "Yeah. You did." He leaned in slowly, brushing his lips against hers again, feeling shivers run down his spine as she once again wrapped her arms around him.

This felt perfect, so incredibly _right. _He'd never been more content in his life and if he could, he would just stand here, holding and kissing her forever.

Someone coughed quietly and Zack reluctantly pulled away from Aerith, looking up and blinking in shock at the sight of Cloud standing awkwardly a few feet away. Cloud. He'd completely forgotten the blond was there. The world had faded away, leaving just him and Aerith.

He blushed slightly and released Aerith, who chuckled nervously, cheeks aflame.

Cloud looked a little embarrassed himself but Zack was grateful his friend had given him and Aerith so much privacy. "What is it, Cloud? Something wrong?"

"Yeah," Cloud muttered, shifting his weight from foot to foot and keeping his eyes on the ground. "Sorry to interrupt, but this carriage just drove past and I think it had Tifa in it."

"Carriage?" Zack echoed, puzzled and surprised he hadn't heard any noise.

"Tifa?" Aerith asked, glancing back and forth between them in confusion.

"She's a friend," Zack explained. "Part of the rebel group Cloud and I work for."

Aerith frowned at him. "So you're blowing up reactors, too?"

Zack grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah. I promise I'll explain everything later."

Aerith nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I suppose this isn't the best time."

Zack tilted his head in silent concurrence and turned to Cloud. "So what's this about a carriage?"

Cloud frowned. "It was going really fast and these big yellow birds—chocobos?—were pulling it."

"Huh," Zack said, "That's weird."

"A carriage pulled by chocobos?" Aerith's face was several shades paler than normal, her eyes wide.

Cloud nodded and Zack glanced at Aerith, worried by her negative reaction to Cloud's description. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"That sounds like Don Corneo's carriage," Aerith whispered.

Zack felt even more confused. "Don Corneo?"

"He's a crime lord that basically rules Wall Market. Despicable man. Rumor is that he's looking for a wife … and taking potential candidates to his mansion." Aerith shuddered, though anger sparked in her normally gentle green eyes.

"Taking candidates to his mansion … you mean kidnapping them?" Zack asked, alarmed.

Aerith shrugged. "I'm not sure … probably. Though I bet some girls, looking for a way out of the slums, come willingly." Her eyes darkened and Zack put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She smiled up at him sadly and he once again felt guilty that she'd had to face the harsh streets on her own for so long.

_I should've been here to keep her safe. _

"If Tifa was in that carriage then we should probably go help her out," Aerith continued— a determined set to her jaw and steel in her eyes. Zack briefly admired the strength he saw there.

"Yeah," he agreed, grinning.

"So … where is Don Corneo's mansion?" Cloud asked.

Aerith started moving, heading for the path the carriage had taken. She smiled over her shoulder at the two men. "C'mon, I'll show you."

"Aerith, you should go back. Cloud and I can handle this," Zack protested.

She turned and frowned at him, crossing her arms. "No. I _can _take of myself, Zack. And I want to help."

Zack sighed and shook his head, unable to keep a rueful smile from his lips. He'd forgotten how stubborn Aerith Gainsborough could be. "Fine," he amended. "Just stick close. Wall Market is no place for a woman."

Aerith nodded. "Right. I will. Now, come on, let's hurry."

* * *

"It's huge!"

Aerith chuckled—amused by Zack's wide-eyed expression and shocked response to Don Corneo's towering mansion. The doors spanned the width of the street and looked as though they'd been painted in gold. Towering wooden columns rose on either side of the doorway, adding to the imposing image and a lone guard stood watch, glaring at anyone who ventured too close to the grand entrance.

"Yeah. He's pretty wealthy," Aerith murmured, peeking out from behind the trash pile that shielded her, Zack, and Cloud from the guard's view.

Zack snorted in disgust, compiling all his opinions into the one simple sound.

"So," Cloud whispered beside him, "how are we going to get inside?"

"Only girls are allowed in the mansion," Aerith explained.,

Zack snorted again, louder this time. Aerith put a finger to her lips, warning him to keep quiet. He shot her a sheepish glance and mouthed a brief apology. But a few seconds later she heard his muttered, "pervert," and had to stifle her laughter.

Oh, how Zack affected her. In the span of an hour he'd made her laugh, cry, smile, and frown more than she ever had in her life. It felt so good to be near him again, laugh at his jokes, see his smile and the way his eyes danced. This was nothing how she'd pictured their reunion but she realized now—crouched behind a bunch of garbage spying on the mansion of a notorious crime lord and searching for a way in—she wouldn't want it any other way.

"So, how do we get in?" Cloud asked again, drawing her back to their current predicament.

"I could go in and look for…"

"No," Zack cut her off adamantly, eyes blazing. "I am _not _letting you go in there alone."

She sighed, seeing his point and knowing arguing would do no good. He'd always been so protective of her. It annoyed her at times—like now—but most often, she loved it. He made her feel safe and she knew she could take on anything life threw at her if Zack was by her side.

_Especially with that big sword of his. Everyone we passed practically ran for cover. _

She giggled, ignoring Zack's puzzled look, and tried to focus, pushing her uncharacteristic giddiness aside. Cloud and Zack were talking quietly, bouncing ideas back and forth and searching for one with merit amongst the many their brains supplied.

"We could just charge through the front. You and I could take 'em."

A sigh. "No, I don't think that'll work, Zack. Too many people around."

"Right. Uh … we could try to find another way in. Unguarded window or something."

"Wouldn't that take too long? And we'd have a pretty high risk of being seen."

"We could bribe the guard."

"With what?"

"Let's see. Some gil; materia—I think I have some lying around—a date with a pretty girl…"

"Zack…" Cloud sounded tired and a little appalled.

"Sorry, not helping. Hey … we could threaten the guard."

"That might work, but what do we do once we get inside?"

"Wave our giant swords around and demand they tell us where Tifa is?"

"…."

"Kidding. I'm just kidding."

Aerith listened to their banter with a smile, seeing easily how close they were. She remembered Zack writing her about a Cloud--or chocobo head, as Zack called him--and boasting about how much potential the kid had. It was nice to meet Cloud in person, though she guessed he was far different now from the boy Zack had spoken of all those years ago.

They were getting nowhere, however, so Aerith began wracking her own mind for ideas. They needed to get inside to see if this Tifa was alright, but no men were allowed in. She could not go in alone and Zack or Cloud couldn't barge or sneak in without causing a commotion.

_Unless… _

She clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the burst of laughter that surged to the surface. It was the perfect plan. Absolutely perfect.

_Not to mention fun… _

Zack noticed her shaking shoulders and wide-eyed expression and instantly became concerned. "Aerith? Are you all right?"

She lowered her hands, allowing him to see her bright grin. "I have an idea."

He frowned, a little off-balance from the sharp gleam in her eyes and the sly note in her voice. "Huh?"

"There's only one way inside." Her grin shifted into a slight smirk, making Zack more nervous. "You have to dress up like a girl."

Zack mouth dropped open so far it almost hit the ground and his glowing eyes nearly bulged out of his head, rapidly growing to the size of dinner plates. "W-wh-what?!"

Aerith wished she had a camera, just to capture the expression on his face.

_Oh, Zack, how did I ever survive without you? _

She struggled to keep a serious face and hold back the laughter bubbling in her throat. "It's the only way. I can't go in alone and you can't go in as a guy."

Zack's lips moved but no sound came out and his face remained frozen in a perfect picture of shock. Cloud, serious as always, nodded after considering her idea. "She's right," he said softly. "It _is_ the only way to get inside."

Zack's head whipped back and forth between them so fast it was a miracle he didn't snap his neck. "Y-you _can't _be serious!" he cried.

Aerith and Cloud nodded. The shock melted away, replaced by firm defiance.

"No," Zack glared at them fiercely, waving his arms for emphasis. "There is _no _way I am dressing up as girl! You _can't _make me!"

Aerith smiled, eyes glinting mischievously.

* * *

Zack scowled at his reflection in the mirror—arms crossed, back straight—desperately trying to hold onto the last shreds of his dignity. The monstrosity had puffy sleeves and a wide, frilly skirt to hide his muscles. It had taken forever to put the thing on and the process involved a lot of cursing and struggling amidst helpful advice from Aerith in between giggles and snide comments. At last she'd pulled him from the stall and he was forced to stand and take more snide comments from the dressmaker and his daughter. He could still feel his cheeks burning and wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

Fortunately, Aerith had gone off in search of who-knows-what and the dressmaker and daughter went to back to work, ignoring him. That left Cloud, who leaned against the wall, watching Zack silently.

"I can't believe this," Zack groaned. "I thought I was immune to Aerith's puppy dog look." He twisted, taking in every angle of his unflattering reflection, knowing this would haunt him until his dying day. "And she had to pick _purple_! I don't know much about this kind of thing, but I'm pretty sure purple is _not _my color."

A strange sound reached his ears, soft and low, almost melodious, but rapidly growing in volume. He turned, blinking in surprise at his friend. Cloud was _laughing. _And not just chuckling quietly under his breath but full out, hands-over-mouth, shoulders shaking, eyes watering, chest heaving, eyes dancing laughing. Zack just stared in wonder at the rare sight, soaking it in and drawing joy from it.

Cloud hadn't laughed in five and a half years.

And seeing him let loose now made this whole ordeal worth it.

He hid his smile and summoned up a glare of mock outrage. "Oh, I'm sure _you_ find this amusing. _You're_ not the one in the dress."

Cloud could barely speak. "I-I'm sorry but … it's just … you look…"

Zack sighed dramatically. "Ridiculous, I know. Tifa had _better _be grateful." He raised a hand, pointing at Cloud threateningly, hoping he could keep the blond laughing for just a little longer. "And you had _better _not speak a word of this to _anyone. Especially _Barrett."

Cloud's laughter died down, but his eyes still sparkled with more life than Zack had seen in them in a long time and his lips curved up in a blend of a smile and a smirk. "Right. Of course not. Not a word."

Zack huffed and turned back to the mirror, resuming his earlier position of pouting at the image in the glass, but with far less enthusiasm than before. If dressing up like a girl was what it took to make Cloud laugh, he knew he'd do it any day.

Aerith suddenly slipped through the door, smiling brightly and holding a small bag in her hand. She giggled when he turned to look at her. "You look cute, _Miss Fair."_

Zack growled in indignation over the new name, but Cloud's amused chuckle and Aerith's dancing eyes eased the blow. As embarrassing as this was, the chance to be with the two most important people in his life made the pain worth it. Well, _mostly _worth it.

"What's in the bag?" He asked, deciding not to take the bait and respond to Aerith's teasing. He half suspected this was some twisted form of revenge for abandoning her for five years.

She smirked rather evilly and pulled some odd items from the bag, lifting them up for him to see. He arched an eyebrow, frowning deeply. They almost looked like … cosmetics.

_Oh no…_

"Pucker up, Miss Fair," Aerith giggled, moving closer and brandishing a tube of red lipstick_. _

Zack could only gape in mute horror.

_Oh, __**hell **__no._

* * *

**Teehee. Zack in a dress. Interesting mental images, ne? Reviews are always coveted. So please take the time to give me your opinion on the chapter. **

**Coming up next--**a lecherous crime lord, a damsel in distress, and an unconventional rescue.

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	13. XII: A Damsel in Distress?

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas and am doing this merely for personal enjoyment. Only Square Enix is allowed to make bucket loads of money from Final Fantasy 7.

**Well, guys, I'm sorry this is late. I've been trying to maintain an update schedule of Mondays and Thursdays but this week I've been sick so this chapter was delayed a few days. Hopefully it's worth the wait. :D**

**This is probably the most light-hearted chapter in the entire story. At least for the moment, it may change as the story continues to shape itself in my brain, but for now it holds the title. This chapter was also the hardest to write so far. I hate Don Corneo and hated writing him so it slowed things down considerably. I'm sorry if he appears a bit one-dimensional. There was very little to work with and I dislike him so he may not have come out as well as he could've. I did try, I can say that much. :D**

**Another note, quite a few people were wondering why Cloud didn't dress up like a girl, too. While I can see that Cloud is probably more suited for the role because of his smaller size and slightly more delicate features, Zack is extremely overprotective, remember? ;D He already has Aerith to worry about so adding Cloud to mix would probably skyrocket his stress levels. Plus it just worked better overall with only three people. So Cloud is sitting this one out. Sorry to all those who were hoping to see him on the rescue party. **

**Thank you so much everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are amazingly wonderful! XD I'm honored to have you all as readers. **

**Read on, and review if it sparks your fancy. I would love to hear your thoughts. **

* * *

_I can't believe I'm doing this. _

If Zack had a gil for every time that thought had drifted through his mind over the course of the past few hours, he would have been richer than President Shinra himself. The small rescue party was crouched behind the same pile of garbage as earlier, though now they were very different in appearance. Zack nervously fiddled with his dress, wishing the thing didn't itch so much. He would never understand why girls wore dresses willingly. They were downright uncomfortable.

His eyes flicked sideways to Aerith for the hundredth time in the span of an hour and like always, he fought the urge to gape. When she'd marched out of the dressing room stall in a stunning red dress with her hair flowing down around her shoulders and makeup adorning her already beautiful face, Zack's jaw hit the floor. He hadn't been able to properly re-hinge it since. She was simply too stunning.

Aerith caught his glance and frowned at him, swatting his shoulder in reproach. "Zack, stop looking at me like that! Girls do not look at other girls the way you are currently gaping at me," she hissed, eyes flashing.

He gulped, feeling a blush crawl up his cheeks beneath the makeup, and tugged at his wig in subdued embarrassment. "Sorry. This is hard, alright?"

Aerith chuckled slightly and fixed his wig for him. His hair was now long and curly, drifting over his shoulders and down his back. Aerith had wanted to put a tiara in it but he had refused and no amount of begging and needling at gotten him to change his mind. It also felt heavy and hindered his movements, making him dislike it almost as much as the dress. But nothing, absolutely nothing, was more horrible than the heels. They rubbed his feet raw and seemed determined to kill him, wobbling dangerously every time he stood on them. Aerith had attempted to teach him to walk more like a girl, in a dignified manner, but he kept tripping all over the place. Finally, she had given up, rolling her eyes and saying he was hopeless. He whole-heartedly agreed. Walking well in heels was an achievement he would rather not have.

"I don't like this," Cloud spoke up softly—the serious look firmly affixed on his face once more and a frustrated edge clear in his normally impassive, somewhat sad eyes.

Zack frowned at him. "Oh, so you want to dress up like a girl too?"

Cloud shook his head adamantly. "No. I just don't like being left out of the mission. Why do I have to sit outside?" He sighed angrily and tugged the sack containing Zack and Aerith's clothes higher up onto his shoulder. The Buster Sword and Cloud's own sword rested on the blonde's back, but he seemed to be handling all the weight very well, in spite of his small stature.

Zack placed at hand on his shoulder, regarding the blond gravely. "This is an extremely important job," he stated, not an ounce of humor in his voice. "I need you to be out here so you can come in and save us if something goes wrong. If we're not back in an hour, charge in there with all weapons out and get us, okay? Because I'm sure something bad probably happened to us."

Cloud frowned. "Really?" He asked tentatively—off balance by Zack's deeply serious stare.

Zack nodded. "Really. Come save us, I beg you." He pressed a PHS into Cloud's hand. "An hour, remember?"

Aerith rolled her eyes for the hundredth time in the last couple of hours and gripped a handful of Zack's sleeve, pulling him up to his feet. "Come on Zack, stop being such a drama queen. Everything is going to be fine."

Zack struggled to maintain his balance in the cursed heels and scowled at her. "You think this is easy? You're a girl! You couldn't possibly understand."

Mirth sparkled in Aerith's eyes. "Oh, is Mister 1st Class SOLDIER afraid?"

Cloud snorted, lips twitching up in a brief smile, as Zack's cheeks took on a new hue of pink and his scowl deepened. "Not afraid," he muttered sourly as Aerith began to drag him toward the ominous golden doors and the waiting guard. He turned his head and caught Cloud's eye above the small garbage heap. A desperate look on his face, the ex-SOLDIER pointed at Cloud and mouthed, "One hour."

Cloud nodded, ducking back down out of sight, and Aerith rolled her eyes for the hundredth and one time.

She stopped in front of the guard and smiled, giggling girlishly and batting her eyelashes at him. Zack's left eye twitched in mild annoyance. Did she have to be so flirty?

"We're here to see Don Corneo," she informed the guard in a voice pitched slightly higher than normal.

The guard arched his eyebrows and leered at them in a disgusting manner—face and eyes twisted into something dark and ugly, almost cruel. "Well, I'm sure the Don would welcome two hot girls like you." A lustful edge tainted the flattering words, subtle but somehow impossible to miss.

Aerith giggled again, ducking her head in false embarrassment. Zack, however, bounced back and forth between wanting to retch all over the pavement or cave the guard's face in.

_A heel to his skull ought to work nicely. _

Aerith noticed the murderous look creeping into his eyes and squeezed his wrist tightly, shooting him a warning glare when the guard turned around to face the giant doors. Zack forced himself to relax, trying to coax an unwilling smile onto his stubbornly unresponsive face.

The guard rapped on the door several times and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Open up! We've got ladies coming through!"

A tense minute passed before the doors swung open slowly, moaning loudly in protest and revealing a spacious, lavishly decorated great room. Aerith hauled him through, keeping a tight hand on his arm to help him stay on his feet. He stumbled twice and tried to ignore the guard's lustful stare as well as the overwhelming urge to start babbling. The words bubbled on his lips, longing to be released—an annoying product of his nervousness.

"If I ever looked at a girl like that in my life I apologize now," he mumbled, unable to keep the words locked inside.

Aerith dug her nails into his sleeve and the flesh underneath in manner that screamed at him to shut up. He promptly clamped his mouth shut, wondering where his confidence had fled to. After all, he used to be a 1st Class SOLIDER. He'd conducted numerous advanced missions, took on Sephiroth and lived, survived the worst of Shinra's labs, escaped and managed to elude them for a full _year, _took out nearly an entire platoon of grunts on his own, got shot in the chest multiple times and lived to tell the story, and blew up _two _mako reactors. Yet, here he was on a relatively easy mission surrounded by people he could take out with one hit and he was a quivering mess.

_Well, I was never in a dress and high heels before. I suspect that has a lot to do with it. _

A man lounged behind the counter in a dirty, cheap suit with messy hair and a familiar leer on his face. He eyes roamed over Aerith and Zack, taking in every detail, and Zack felt like throwing up all over again. Never in his life had he felt more vulnerable.

_This gives me a whole new respect for women. _

"I'll Don Corneo you're here," he said at last, schooling his face into a business-like expression. Then he adopted a scolding tone and pointed an accusing finger at them. "Wait here. Don't go wanderin' around."

Aerith nodded, smiling brightly. "Of course." Zack tried to follow her lead but he was sure his smile either looked like a grimace of disgust or an I-am-going-to-kill-you sneer.

_Gah, I'm horrible at undercover missions. _

The man shot him a suspicious look and Zack lowered his eyes to the floor, trying desperately to make his features appear normal. He had never been good at hiding his emotions, being far too open in nature, and had always been unable to get his face and eyes to lie. Retreating footfalls told him he had a least marginally succeeded in appeasing the man. Zack breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Aerith turned to him, smirking faintly. "You are so bad at this," she teased.

Zack tugged at his wig again in frustration. "Give me a little break. This is really hard when you're a guy. I'm going to be traumatized for life, I know it."

Aerith giggled, ignoring his glare of indignation. "Let's just go find Tifa."

Zack nodded, a deep frown darkening his face. "Yeah. And fast."

Aerith headed toward the staircase and began to climb hurriedly. Zack paused at the bottom, glancing up at the stairs then down at his heels. Biting his lip, the ex-SOLDIER paled several shades, looking faintly sick. "Oh … _evil." _

Aerith glanced back at him, noting his hesitation, and frantically gestured for him to hurry. Sighing, Zack began his ascent, clutching the railing in a death grip to keep himself from falling as he wobbled violently. Yes, heels were definitely the most evil invention in the world, right up there with security robots and train security systems.

It took him a while to reach the top of the stairs where Aerith promptly grabbed his hand and dragged him forward, across the balcony. He was amazed at the grace she possessed, moving effortlessly in her heels and dress.

_How does she do it? _

One open door beckoned them at the end of the winding balcony and they hurried through it, glancing around furtively for any signs of the manager's return. Zack screeched to a halt on the other side of the doorway, gaping wide-eyed at the steep staircase leading down into darkness.

"Oh … _**evil**_," he hissed through clenched teeth—skin adopting a green hue.

Aerith tugged him forward. "Come on, Zack. You can do it," she encouraged.

Taking a deep breath, Zack descended slowly, mourning the absence of a banister and trying hard not to stumble and plummet to his death.

_Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip … I can't believe I'm doing this … don't trip, don't trip, don't trip, don't trip … how long does this thing go on? Don't trip, __**don't **__trip, whatever you do, __**don't**__ trip… phew … made it!_

He sighed as his feet touched the stone floor, sagging forward in utter relief. For a moment he was entirely preoccupied with applauding himself that he didn't die before he caught sight of a new girl, decked out in a glittering light blue dress that was scandalously short and matching heels. Long black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, brushing her hips and caressing her pale face, which was covered in make up.

At first he didn't recognize her, then two tear-shaped silver earrings glinted in the dim light and his jaw collided painfully with the floor.

"_Tifa?!" _He exclaimed in shock. "You're wearing a _dress!" _

Tifa froze, eyes wide. She inched toward him cautiously, peering intently at his face. After a moment, her jaw hit the floor too and she jerked in surprise. _"Zack?!" _

Zack nodded, crossing his arms and frowning at her. Who else could she possibly think he was? "Yeah?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth in amazement. "Forget about _me. You're _wearing a dress!"

Zack scowled darkly, cursing the blush that stained his cheeks. "It was the only way to get in here!" He cried defensively.

Tifa arched an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. "I still can't believe you're wearing a _dress." _

Zack snorted in a mixture of outrage and embarrassment but remained silent. Tifa's playful expression vanished and fear blossomed in her eyes.

"Cloud! Is he…?"

"He's fine," Zack reassured her quickly. "He's waiting outside for us. Back-up, if you will."

Tifa's features relaxed and she shot him a relieved smile. "Good. I was worried."

Aerith pushed her way forward, smiling at Tifa. "So you're Tifa?"

Tifa nodded and tilted her head sideways in curiosity. "And you are?"

"I'm Aerith Gainsborough," Aerith replied, offering her hand.

A bright smiled enveloped Tifa's face and she shook Aerith's hand vigorously. "So _you're _the girlZack's always talking about."

The pink on Zack's cheeks darkened into red and he coughed, shifting his feet awkwardly as Aerith laughed. "So he's mentioned me?"

Tifa smiled, glancing at Zack as her smile turned teasing. "Oh yeah. He's mentioned you quite a bit. It's pleasure to finally meet you."

Aerith nodded. "Likewise."

Zack cleared his throat. "I'm glad you two are bonding but we're on a time limit here. Come on, Tifa, let's get you out of here."

Tifa stepped away from Aerith, staring at Zack with a puzzled frown. "But I don't want to leave."

Zack's jaw met the floor for the second time in just a few minutes. "What?!"

Horror and disgust crossed Tifa's face as she realized what her words had implied. "No! That's not what I meant!" she cried, waving her arms frantically.

Both of Zack's eyebrows rose to an impressive height on his forehead. Aerith glanced back and forth between them in confusion. "Wait … didn't Don Corneo kidnap you?"

Tifa shook her head. "I volunteered to go."

Zack frowned, irritation marring his face. "So, you didn't need rescuing?"

Tifa scoffed. "Of course not! I would never need rescuing. Is that what you were doing? Rushing in to save me? I assure you, I'm fine."

Zack's left eye twitched violently. "So … I dressed up like this … for _nothing?" _

Tifa smiled sweetly at him. "Apparently."

A dark growl slipped from Zack's lips and the right side of his mouth joined his eye in a display of silent anger. "You… I … I hate you." He finally managed to grate out, eyes spitting sparks at a grinning Tifa.

Tifa snickered and Zack's growl escalated into a snarl as he raised one clenched fist and spoke through gritted teeth. "_You…"_

"Zack," Aerith cut in, grasping his arm and pulling back to his side. "Calm down. I'm sure Tifa has a good reason for coming here."

Zack slowly deflated, though his eyes remained ablaze, and exhaled slowly, dispelling his anger with the drawn-out breath. "Fine." He glanced at Tifa, who had stifled her mocking laughter and adopted a serious expression. "Why _did _you come here?"

Tifa's lips quirked upward briefly. "I thought you'd never ask."

Zack crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently—the sound echoing loudly off the stone walls of the basement.

Tifa's smiled faded. "Right, sorry. Well, there was this guy that showed up at the bar not long after you left. He was acting very suspicious, asking way too many questions. So, I got Wedge to," she coughed into her hand, "have a word with him. And Don Corneo's name came up."

Zack ran a hand over his face, being careful not to smudge his makeup and fighting off momentary horror that he actually cared about such a thing. "So, let me guess: you decided to investigate."

Tifa nodded. "Exactly."

"You left Wedge in charge of the bar?" Zack asked incredulously.

"No!" Tifa protested. "Of course not. Biggs had woken up by then. He promised to look after everything for me."

Zack sighed in weary acceptance. "So now what? We can't leave until we find out what Corneo is up to."

"Right," Tifa said, nodding in agreement. "I actually have a plan and I'm glad you guys came along. You know Don Corneo's looking for a wife, right?"

"Yeah," Aerith shivered. "Girls have been avoiding Wall Market more than usual. Word's out everywhere about Corneo's exploits."

Zack's eyes flashed angrily and he slammed one fist into his open palm. "I would love to give that guy a piece of mind."

Tifa waved a hand at him dismissively. "Later. We'll do that later. Continuing with the explanation…" She shot Zack a questioning look and he gestured for her to go on. She cleared her throat and obliged. "Every night, Corneo gets three girls, chooses one of them … and … well…" she trailed off into an awkward cough.

Zack snarled. "I already hate this guy. He is _definitely_ going to get a piece of my mind."

Aerith ignored Zack's outburst, focusing on Tifa. "I think I see where you're going with this. You want us to be the three girls then Corneo can pick you and you can interrogate him."

"Exactly," Tifa exclaimed, punctuating her agreement with a single clap of her hands.

Zack looked far less enthusiastic. "Wait a minute. There is _no _way I am letting either of you anywhere_ near_ Don Corneo."

Tifa glared at him in frustration. "What, you think we can't take care of ourselves?" She marched over to Aerith and linked her arm through the surprised brunettes', jutting her chin out at Zack defiantly. "Aerith and I are perfectly capable of fighting our own battles, Zack Fair."

Aerith smiled at Zack and Tifa's bickering, knowing instantly she had found a new friend in this strong, independent woman. Deciding to further frustrate Zack, she too raised her chin and smirked at him, inwardly giggling about how flustered he looked. "Yeah, Zack. Are you saying we're weak?"

Zack's eyes widened and he shook his head, crumbling under the combined force of Tifa and Aerith. "No. I just worry about you. That's all."

Aerith's eyes softened and she released Tifa's arm, stepping over to Zack and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know. But you have to let me fight sometimes too."

He dredged up a smile. "I know. You're right." He placed his hand over her own as his smiled widened slowly in a full-fledged grin. "Let's do this!"

Tifa and Aerith both agreed animatedly, ready to tackle anything the lecherous crime lord had in store for them. Zack's enthusiasm, however, only lasted until he realized that he had to walk back _up _the staircase.

* * *

Don Corneo's office reminded Zack of a brothel—full of gold statues and flamboyant colors that both blinded and nauseated him. The Don himself was a nauseating man. He was short and fat with oily skin and grimy stubble peppering his chin and jaw. One greasy clump of blonde hair adorned his head, leaving the rest bare and stained with a heart and the word 'love' tattooed in red on the left side of his skull. Stains marred his white shirt and the hem of his red coat was tattered, adding to his cheap appearance. Gaudy rings glistened in the dim light and smoke from the cigar he gripped between his pudgy fingers wafted into Zack's mouth and nose, making him want to gag.

The worst feature of the man, though, were the dull blue eyes that stared at them lustfully—perverse desires evident in their shallow depths. Zack shuddered inwardly, feeling sick for the third time in one day. He had never felt more exposed in his life and he sympathized even more with the many girls who had found themselves in the same spot as he, unable to even defend themselves. It made his blood boil.

_I could take him out. Heel to the skull. Yep … perfect. _

"Hmm," the Don began, stroking a nonexistent beard as he waddled out from behind his desk. "Good! Splendid!" He stuck the cigar between fat lips and clapped his hands together in delight. Then, he began to pace back and forth, eyeing Tifa, Zack, and Aerith intently, pausing in front of them to further assesses his choices. "Hmm… which girl should I choose?"

He leered at Aerith suggestively and Zack fought the murderous rage flooding his veins. He longed to snap the disgusting man's neck but held himself in check, knowing they needed information from him. "This one?" He asked playfully as Aerith turned her head away bashfully, clenching her teeth to hold in her anger.

Corneo chuckled and moved on, stopping in front of Zack. Zack glanced at the floor, desperately trying to hide the traitorous glow of his eyes. He was starting to hate their inhuman quality. The Don chuckled at Zack's submissive posture and ambled on to Tifa, who glared at him in open rebelliousness. He ignored her stare, smiling at her and tilting his head to one side. "Or this one?"

He paced the width of the floor again, wooden boards groaning faintly as they strained beneath his bulk. Finally, he stopped … right in front of Zack. Zack gulped, one hand curling into a fist as flight or fight instinct pulsed within him. Corneo leaned in so close the ex-SOLDIER could smell the stench of alcohol and nicotine on the man's breath, making him gag softly.

_Why … why is he still standing in front of me?_

Zack refused to raise his head and get a good look at the crime lord's face, though he bristled when the slimy man began to laugh—a deep rumble that sounded both smug and oily, perfectly characterizing Don Corneo.

"I have made my choice!" Corneo declared dramatically, stepping back and punctuating the statement with a flamboyant flourish of his hand. The trio held their breath and Zack could almost hear the drum roll in his head.

"My choice for tonight is… this healthy-looking girl!"

It took Zack a full minute to realize that Don Corneo was pointing at him. Once he understood, the ex-SOLDIER felt like either screaming at the top of his lungs or fainting dead away.

_Help me…_

* * *

If Don Corneo's office was blinding, his bedroom was _dizzying. _ The colors blurred together in a combination that sent bile surging up Zack's throat. Actually the urge to vomit was from several things besides the room and its garish colors, the foremost being the manner in which Corneo addressed him, or rather the things the crime lord called him.

"All right, pussycat … come to daddy!"

Like that.

"You're so cute. I never get tired of looking at you."

And _that._

Zack suppressed a violent shiver of disgust and forced a smile onto his face.

_Just smile and nod. Yeah, smile and nod and ignore the fact that a __**guy **__is hitting on you._

Don Corneo rested on the bed on his hands and knees, regarding Zack—who was pressed up against the wall, trying to put as much distance in between them as he could—with hungry eyes. Zack could only imagine the things Corneo was thinking in his sleazy mind. The mere notion of them made the ex-SOLDIER's stomach churn. This whole experience felt worse than Nibelheim, the labs, and the run to Midgar combined. None of those horrific things had traumatized or scarred him as badly as this. He would replay this scene in his nightmares.

He just knew it.

"Give me a kiss!" The Don demanded, leaning so far forward he nearly tumbled off the bed.

Zack flinched as all conscious thought flew from his mind like a bird suddenly freed from a cage. He knew there was a reason for subjecting himself to this torture, something he was supposed to do that very important, but he couldn't remember what it was. All he could see was Corneo's puckered lips and he could think was… _He wants me to kiss him?! He wants __**me**__ to __**kiss **__him?!_

His body froze and he struggled to overcome his sudden immobility and the blank slate that was currently his mind. He was an ex-SOLDIER. _First_ class_. _He didn't freeze on missions. He didn't get scared by pudgy, perverted little crime lords whose neck he could snap lip a twig…

_Hey, that actually sounds like a good idea._

Corneo was getting impatient. "Stop playing so hard to get!" He whined, motioning with his hand for Zack to come closer. "Come here and give me a kiss!"

Zack fought the desire to adamantly shake his head. _There is no __**way **__I'm kissing him. _

Then, another idea blossomed in his mind. If he got closer, he could snap Corneo's neck or at the very least punch him into next year. Liking that particular idea a lot and deciding to roll with it, Zack nodded slowly—not trusting himself to speak in case his voice came out too low and gave him away—and inched closer, smirking inwardly at Corneo's pleased expression and imagining an entirely different one on his face.

He was right up against the bed with his face inches from the Don's and one fist pulled back, ready to strike, when the door burst open and Tifa and Aerith came tumbling through, disheveled but determined. The both stopped dead when they saw him, looking like fish with their pursed lips and bulging eyes. At first, Zack didn't understand whey they wore such expressions. Then he realized how compromising his position was and what he seemed about to do.

"Zack, were you…?" Aerith began hesitantly.

Zack leapt backwards away from a stunned and outraged Corneo and shook his head violently—face flushed with absolute mortification. "No! A thousand times no! Just … _no." _

Don Corneo sat up on the bed and pointed an accusing finger at the two girls in the doorway. "Who are you?" He snarled, furious at being interrupted. "What is the meaning of this?"

The Don got the surprise of his life when the timid girl he'd been about to kiss reached out and shoved him with remarkable force, nearly sending him flying off the bed. He gaped at her in surprise as he scrambled for balance, frightened by the suddenly murderous look in her pale blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to … glow.

"Quiet," she hissed. "We'll ask the questions from now on and you'll answer them or suffer the consequences."

Corneo's eyebrows shot up at her surprisingly deep voice—a little too deep to be a girl. And she didn't talk like a girl either. Or stand like a girl. What was going on? He didn't dare speak, though. The woman was far too terrifying. So he sat trembling on the bed and wisely kept his questions to himself.

"First off," Zack wrenched the wig from his head and scrubbed the make-up from his face with the sleeves of his dress, "I'm a guy, you idiot!"

Corneo's face twisted in disgust and mortification. "A … a man?!" he stammered. "What's going on?!" He couldn't believe that he had almost kissed a _man … _and now the man was angry, very angry, and the closer the Don looked the more the man's eyes resembled a SOLDIER's. The crime lord bit back a moan of fright. He was _dead. _

"Shut up," the SOLDIER spat as the two women hurried further into the room, standing next to him by the bed. "We're asking the questions, remember?"

Corneo nodded vigorously, terrified for his health. If this man was in SOLDIER he could probably snap Corneo's neck like a twig and the crime lord wanted very much to prevent such a thing, so he cooperated without complaint.

"Why were your men at the Seventh Heaven?" the woman in the blue dress asked. Her wine-colored eyes flashed in the weak light of the room and her face seemed carved from stone—a warrior's face. Right then, she looked almost as scary as the man.

"Tell us," the man continued threateningly when Corneo remained silent, "if you want to live to see tomorrow."

Corneo let loose an undignified squeak and held out his hands in a gesture of peace. "Please, I'll tell you everything!" he cried, slightly ashamed he'd been so swiftly reduced to begging. Fortunately, none of his men were in the room to see such a disgraceful display.

"Well?" Blue Dress prodded, arching an eyebrow and scowling at him.

Shaking like a leaf, Corneo rapidly began to talk, information spilling from his lips like water. "I made them find out where the man with the gun arm was! But I was just following orders, I swear!"

"Whose orders?" The woman pressed, raising a fist.

Don Corneo gulped, briefly weighing the consequences. If he told them, Shinra would surely dispose of him. "I can't tell you that!" he whimpered. "I'll be killed."

"Oh yeah?" SOLDIER said, stepping closer to the bed.

The delicate-looking girl moved to stand beside him and her face was shaped into a mask of displeasure. Her green eyes, which a seemed so open and gentle before, now spat fire at him and he recoiled. Even the woman who seemed so innocent was terrifying! Who _were _these people?

"You'd better talk," she warned. "If you don't…"

SOLDIER took another step forward—a dark smirk misshaping his lips. "You die right here, right now. Slow … and painful." He cracked his knuckles ominously. Corneo scooted backwards further until his back slammed into the unforgiving wood of his headboard, shaking so hard he thought his bones would rattle right out of his skin.

"Heideggar!" he screeched, covering his face his hands. "Heideggar of Shinra! The head of Public Safety Maintenance!"

SOLDIER's eyes darkened several shades until they were almost navy. "Heideggar," he hissed and Corneo got the distinct impression that the man knew Heideggar … and disliked him immensely. He was confused. Why would a SOLDIER be here looking for information on Shinra? None of this made sense.

"What does Shinra want?" Blue Dress continued in a clipped voice, crossing her arms. "Talk!" She barked and leaned forward suddenly, pressing her hands down onto the mattress so she could peer at him with her intense eyes. "Or else…"

Corneo was so terrified he no longer needed to wait for the next threat. "AVALANCHE!" he wailed, pushing up against the headboard until he was nearly standing, wanting desperately to get away from scary Blue Dress. "Shinra's trying to crush a small rebel group known as AVALANCHE. They want to infiltrate their hideout!"

Blue Dress, Red Dress, and SOLDIER all glanced at each other in mild surprise before turning back to Corneo. "Anything else?" Red Dress asked almost sweetly.

Corneo managed to gather up enough courage to allow a sneer onto his face. "They're going to destroy them. I'm sure of it."

Blue Dress looked like she wanted to hit him … _hard_, but SOLDIER just grabbed her arm and began to pull her toward the door. "Come on. Let's just get out of here. We need to talk to the others."

Blue Dress relented and Red Dress followed. As they turned away, Corneo felt some of his strength returning and anger swelled along with it. How dare they come into his own home and threaten him! He was going to make them pay.

"Wait," he called, once they were at the door. They turned to look at him in annoyance—identical scowls on their faces. "I forgot something," he added, struggling to hide the triumphant smirk that desperately sought a place on his face.

"What?" Blue Dress asked in irritation.

He let the smirk loose and it swiftly morphed into an almost maniacal grin. "This!" he spat and yanked a blue lever by his bed, cackling in satisfaction at the surprised looks on their faces when the trap door opened up beneath them and gravity yanked them down into darkness.

Oh yes, revenge was sweet.

* * *

As darkness closed in on all sides of him, leaving only the mocking square of light above, Angeal's face loomed in Zack's mind, features twisted into a look of disappointment and annoyance. "Pathetic," his mentor said, shaking his head.

Zack couldn't agree more.

_Stupid… _he thought before he crashed into something solid and the whole world turned black.

* * *

"So, what is this again?"

Tseng sighed softly and frowned at Reno, struggling to keep his patience in check. "That," he said, pointing at the numbers scrolling across the redhead's PHS, "is a security code that will trigger a trap for AVALACHE once they get up onto the pillar. Its main purpose is to keep anyone from tampering with the pillar controls but it should serve our purposes well enough."

Reno snapped his PHS closed and folded his arms across his chest. "So let me get this straight. We spread the word that we're gonna drop the plate. AVALANCHE comes running to stop us but instead we just activate this security thing, stop them, and arrest them?"

Tseng nodded. "Exactly. If they hear something as drastic as the plate possible being dropped on the slums they will _all _come to fight us. We arrest them and bring them back here for execution. Simple."

A smirk lifted the right corner of Reno's mouth and he nodded. "Gotcha, boss. I'll get it done." He turned away with a jaunty wave and ambled down the hallway in search of transport and his partner, Rude.

Tseng watched him go and felt a twinge of guilt prick a hole in his normally icy heart. Reno would hate him when he learned the truth. After all, the redhead had grown up in the Sector 7 slums and still harbored a slight attachment to the place and the people. This would probably kill Reno, but it had to be done.

_I'm sorry, Reno, but orders are orders. _

And Turks _always _followed orders, no matter the cost.

* * *

Zack groaned softly and struggled to stand, weighed down by his wet and heavy dress. His groan turned into a snarl of frustration as he lost his balance and toppled back down into the slimy water.

"Of course, he just had to have a secret trapdoor! And it just _had _to lead to the sewers. That's just _great!" _he muttered furiously, tearing some of the dress away to allow better movement and kicking his high heels off, leaving him in only stockings. His feet would hurt later, but he didn't care. They were already rubbed raw so a few new cuts and bruises wouldn't make much of a difference.

Off to his right, Tifa and Aerith helped each other to their feet and wrung their hair out, wiping slime from the their faces. "We should've seen that coming," Tifa remarked with a sigh as she tied her sopping hair up into a loose bun.

"Yeah," Aerith agreed, also scraping her hair up off her face and neck. "We underestimated him."

Zack nodded in silent concurrence, busily trying to get some strange goo out of his eyes. A loud ringing noise pierced the silence, emitting from the red sash around Zack's waist. The ex-SOLDIER jumped in surprise and looked around frantically for a moment before realizing what it was and fishing his PHS out of the sash, amazed it was still working.

Cloud's voice drifted from the speaker before Zack could even put the device up to his ear. "Zack? Where _are _you?!" The blond sounded surprisingly emotional and afraid—his normally low voice much higher and conveying hints of hysteria.

"Cloud? Cloud, what's wrong?" Zack asked, worried. The two girls moved closer, leaning against his shoulder in an attempt to hear Cloud.

"Where are you?" Cloud demanded, darting around Zack's question.

"The sewers," Zack answered grimly.

"How did you get there?"

"The trapdoor."

"Trapdoor?"

"In Corneo's bedroom."

"Coreno's bedroom?"

"Yeah, he pulled this blue lever and then…"

"Okay," Cloud cut him off, urgency creeping back into his voice. "Never mind that. You need to get up here _now. _Shinra's going to drop the plate."

Zack felt his blood run cold. Tifa and Aerith gasped into his ear, exchanging looks of shock. "W-what?" he stammered, hoping, _praying, _he'd heard his friend wrong.

Cloud's tone was too grim to let him hope. "Shinra's going to drop the plate on Sector 7 and crush AVALANCHE. You have to get up here _now_. We're going to go fight them."

Zack closed his eyes and told himself to remember to breathe. This … this couldn't be happening. It was something from his worst nightmare. It was _beyond_ his worst nightmare. All those people….

_No. _It hadn't happened yet. They could still stop it. Even if it took everything they had. When Zack's eyes opened again, they blazed with determination. "We're coming," he told Cloud. "We'll meet you at the pillar and we'll stop them."

"Hurry," Cloud said and the line went dead.

Zack slipped the PHS back into his sash, appearing far calmer than he felt. He glanced at the two girls by his side and saw the same resolve in their eyes, the same fire. They would fight to the death as well, to prevent such a catastrophe.

"Let's go," Zack said and they nodded. As a unit, the trio broke into a run, sloshing as fast as they could through the disgusting water, desperately searching for an exit.

It took nearly a half an hour of wading through stuff Zack didn't want to think about with more stuff Zack didn't want to think about dripping down from overhead—forcing him to wipe his eyes every few seconds—before they found a ladder that led up into a train graveyard. Another half an hour passed before they finally cleared the maze and stumbled into the empty bar—dirty, scraped, and disheveled but still ready to do battle.

Shinra was going down.

* * *

Zack secured the Buster Sword on his back, welcoming its comforting weight, and slipped his leather gloves on. He let out a sigh of immense relief, happy to be back in comfortable clothes and once again secure in his masculinity. But the relief only lasted an instant. Corneo and everything that had occurred over the past few hours felt so trivial compared to the threat facing them now.

_"Shinra's going to drop the plate." _

Zack swallowed, feeling a new kind of fear tearing at him—the desperate, wild kind that came when one was caught up in events beyond their control and faced with something horrible they weren't sure they could change.

_… drop the plate. _

He wouldn't let it happen. He _couldn't. _Too many innocent people had died because of Shinra. He would die himself before he let it happen again.

The stairs creaked beneath his feet as he hurried down them. Tifa and Aerith waited in the main room, dressed in their old clothes. The same fear he felt lurked in their eyes but it was overshadowed by steely fortitude. He said nothing, too weighed down by dread. Instead, he merely strode past them, pausing only to touch Aerith's arm in gentle reassurance, and slipped out the front door.

They followed silently and together the three warriors headed down the street toward the pillar. The plate loomed above their heads, reminding them of their task, their _duty. _Zack looked up at it only once before facing front again and shoving the fear and dread aside, leaving only strength and resolve.

It was time for war.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a violent confrontation, a guilty man, and an unspeakable tragedy.


	14. XIII: The Death of Sector Seven

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**This chapter is remarkably shorter than previous ones, but it flowed nicely and it was the perfect place to stop. I don't want to rush things. Hopefully I will have the next chapter up by Friday at the latest. But I can't guarantee anything. Life has this annoying habit of being unpredictable. :D **

**Thank you to the SIXTEEN FANTASTIC people who reviewed last chapter! XD You guys blow me away! **

* * *

The streets of Sector 7 close to the massive pillar were gripped tightly in the arms of chaos. People scrambled in all directions, though sharing one general course—away from the pillar. Mothers screamed for their children, children screamed for their mothers, husbands for their wives; a few of the braver, rougher folks had guns in their hands—ready to defend themselves or their loved ones should the need arise. These people didn't venture any closer to the area around the support pillar but didn't run either, remaining off to the sidelines of the mass exodus, hidden in the shadows.

Zack pushed his way through the crowd as quickly as possible, grimly taking in the wide, terrified eyes that silently pleaded him for help, set in pale masks of fear and panic. Above all the shouts and screams echoed the thunder of rapid gunfire—the percussion to the symphony of pandemonium. Zack pushed himself into a run, a deep sense of urgency pulling him along through the masses—closer and closer to the pounding gunfire. The battle had already begun and he knew his comrades needed help.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that Aerith and Tifa were still keeping up—running just a few paces behind him, gripping onto each other so they weren't swept away by the tumultuous crowd of panicked slum dwellers. The pillar came into view—towering above them, eventually disappearing into the smog and smoke—and the gunfire was deafening. Bright flashes burst through the smoke near the top of the pillar—looking like fireworks in the dense air. Two Shinra helicopters circled the pillar—vultures, waiting for their prey to fall.

Zack was so focused on the commotion above him that he failed to notice what was happening at the base of the mighty support pillar. Tifa let loose a soft cry and picked up her pace, rushing past him and knocking his shoulder as she brushed by. He blinked at her in confusion—the jarring movement wrenching his attention back to the ground—and looked around for the source of her distress. His heart nearly stopped when he saw Cloud hunched over, supporting himself on his sword in the midst of bodies of Shinra grunts, and another figure on the ground at his friend's feet—clad in khaki with a painfully familiar red bandana around his head.

Tifa reached Cloud and bent next to him, gripping his shoulders and speaking up at him. He shook his head in response to her words and struggled to straighten. Zack exchanged a worried glance with Aerith before breaking into a run, feeling her right beside him. In seconds, he was at Cloud's side with a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder.

"Cloud? Talk to me, buddy." He tried to keep the worry out his voice and failed.

Cloud glanced up at him from beneath blond bangs and Zack's throat clenched at the sight of blood smeared across the blonde's cheek and darkening the skin above his left eye. Aerith knelt in front him, placing a hand on his bloody cheek in worry. To everyone's surprise he batted her hand away and vehemently shook his head.

"Not … me. Help … Wedge." He choked out and let Tifa help him into a sitting position in the dirt, wrapping her arm around his shoulders to support him. For once he didn't shy away from the touch, merely slumped against her wearily as he tried to regain his strength.

Zack turned slowly to the body sprawled face up on the ground only a few feet away. His breath hitched at the pool of crimson surrounding his friend like a shield and staggered towards him, sinking to his knees with a breathless moan of heartache. Wedge's face was pale, chest riddled with bullet holes from Shinra's weapons—though, judging from the many bodies around him, he'd taken quite a few soldiers down. Zack wondered briefly is this was how Cloud had felt, looking at him on cliffs outside Midgar.

"Wedge…" Zack murmured sadly, emotion choking his voice, preventing him from speaking further.

Dark eyes fluttered open in response to his words and a tired smile stretched bloody lips upward. "Zack…" Wedge croaked. "… you came."

Zack tried to dredge up a smile, but it refused to come. "Of course," he murmured, reaching out a hand and placing it on Wedge's shoulder, feeling sticky blood coat his skin.

"Barrett …" Wedge continued, struggling to speak around the blood pooling in his mouth. Zack tried to shush him but he refused to listen. "… the others … Zack … help them."

Zack nodded. "Sure," he whispered thickly, frustrated at his own helplessness.

Wedge smiled at him one last time before his eyes closed and he went limp, relaxing beneath Zack's hand. Zack's heart lurched and he bent his head—anger and pain crashing together within him. Another friend gone, another life wasted, another failure. He could add it to the list that currently held three important names—Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth.

Aerith knelt on the other side of Wedge, gazing down at him sadly. "Oh, Wedge," Zack breathed heavily, fingers curling into a trembling fist in the dirt.

Aerith reached across the body and put her hand on his cheek. Wordlessly he leaned into her touch, seeking the comfort she always provided. "A friend?" she asked gently.

Zack nodded. He had only known Wedge for a few brief weeks, but in that short time the cheerful, pudgy man with a big heart and an equally large appetite had come to mean something to him. Aerith sighed softly, sorrow lacing the sound. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, feeling her hand brush against his skin, and closed his eyes. "Don't be." She withdrew her hand and they fell silent, until shuffling footsteps drew their attention.

Cloud and Tifa knelt next to Zack, equal amounts of pain and sadness on their faces. Zack could only imagine how badly they must be grieving—Tifa had known Wedge much longer than three weeks and Cloud had watched him fall. For a few moments the group remained around their fallen comrade, mourning in silence. Then, Zack climbed to his feet and gazed up at the pillar, where bursts of light still exploded as the helicopters circled.

"Let's go," he said grimly, unsheathing the Buster Sword.

Tifa looked over at Aerith and grabbed her arm gently. "Aerith, can you do me a favor?" She asked, forcing the pain from her eyes. Aerith nodded. "There's a little girl back at the bar…"

"I'll make sure she's safe," Aerith cut in, giving Tifa's arm a reassuring squeeze.

Tifa offered her a weak smile of gratitude before turning and charging after Zack and Cloud, who were already on their way up the winding staircase. Aerith headed back down the street into the chaos, moving hurriedly in the direction of the bar and praying she would make it in time.

Wedge's death made Zack's heart ache, but the sight of Biggs slumped against the railing of the stairs—one hand covering a gaping hole in his stomach—ripped a hole in it. The ex-SOLDIER stopped his mad dash, staring with wide eyes at his friend. Cloud crashed into him from behind and peered over his shoulder, sighing sadly as he realized what had caused Zack's abrupt halt. Tifa maneuvered around them, crouching at Biggs's side.

"Biggs," she whispered painfully.

Biggs's eyes opened slowly—_too ­_slowly—and slid over to Tifa, struggling to focus on her. "Ti…fa?"

"Yeah," she replied.

He lifted a trembling arm and jerkily reached out to Tifa, managing to press an object into her palm. "Take … it. Help … Barr…ett." And then with a final, gasping breath he was gone—glazed eyes staring at a world only he could see.

Tifa gently closed them and stood, stuffing the gun he had given her into her belt. Her eyes flooded with water, but she stubbornly kept her tears at bay—instead raising her chin and resuming her upwards climb with a terse, "Let's go," to the grief-stricken men behind her.

Zack moved first, pulling a stunned Cloud along behind him. He was far more used to death than his blond-haired friend, though he deeply wished it wasn't so. One should never be used to such a horrible thing as death. But he was and so he was able to continue on without a single backward glance at his fallen comrade. His inner resolve shattered, though, when he spotted Jessie near the top of the seemingly endless staircase—curled up on her side and the steps around her washed in crimson.

As he staggered up to her with a desperate cry, he knew it was useless; she was long dead. Her empty eyes mocked him from her frozen face and he could feel agony ripping him apart. She was too _young, _too bright, and too full of life to die. He'd wanted to protect her, keep her safe and make sure she stayed alive long enough to make something of her life. But now…

The tears he'd tried to convince himself he couldn't shed spilled out from the confines of his eyes and trickled down his cheeks, blatantly reminding him of his humanity.

"Oh, Jessie." It escaped his lips in a pained moan and he angrily wiped his eyes, trying to erase the tears that continued to fall. Tifa put her hand on his arm and her cheeks and eyes glistened as well, showing him for the first time how much this was killing her.

Surprisingly, it was Cloud who knelt in the pool of blood and closed Jessie's eyes with a shaking hand, copying Tifa's actions from earlier. He remained by her side, gazing at her still face as he spoke. "Zack?"

Leather creaked faintly as Zack's hand curled so tightly into a fist it shook violently and when Cloud looked up at his best friend all he could see was a mixture of fire and water in his eyes. "They'll _pay_," he spat—angrier than Cloud had ever seen him. "I swear, they'll pay."

"No," Cloud said suddenly—staring evenly into his friend's eyes. "It can't be about that, Zack." He shook head and determined eyes turned pleading. "_Please._ Don't let it be like that."

Zack looked ready to argue but Tifa squeezed his arm forcefully, cutting off all his protests. "He's right," she murmured so softly Zack almost didn't hear her over the steady roar of gunfire. "Let's just do this because it's right, not because we want revenge."

Zack still felt anger burning hot in his veins, but he understood the logic and heart behind their words so he struggled to let it go—or at least dampen it to more manageable levels. When he felt about as close to calm as he was going to come, he nodded and motioned that they should continue. "Come on. Barrett needs us."

The loud crack of gunfire and the whirring of the helicopters prompted everyone forward as they remembered there was still a battle to be fought. This nightmare wasn't over yet.

When they scaled the last of the stairs and ran out onto the open platform, they saw Barrett crouched in the shadow of the pillar, surround by dead Shinra guards and aiming his gun arm at one of the helicopters as he fired off endless volleys of bullets that seemed to have no affect on the circling chopper. Zack, Tifa, and Cloud ran hunched over and ducked into the shadows beside Barrett. The rebel shot them an annoyed glance out of the corner of his eye.

"'Bout time you got here!"

"Sorry!" Zack yelled back, clutching his sword tightly.

Barrett huffed angrily and paused to wipe blood from his face, sighing heavily as he did so. "I can't get a good lock on those choppers! They're too fast."

Everyone tilted their heads up, tracking the helicopter as it came around for another sweep.

"They haven't tried anything yet?" Tifa asked skeptically.

Barrett shook his head. "Nope. Just circlin'. They ain't even shootin' at me."

"Huh," Zack muttered intelligently, conveying his confusion perfectly with the simple sound.

"What are they playing at?" Tifa muttered, watching in confusion as the chopper slowed down to almost a hover.

The small group jumped in surprise when a black-clothed figure leapt from the helicopter, landing in a graceful crouch on the platform. Zack caught a brief glimpse of red hair as he scrambled away from a wave of electricity, feeling his skin prickle as some of the attack passed far too close to comfort. He whirled as soon as the wave was past and saw a black blur dart to the control panel on the pillar, moving almost too fast for him to track. Only one kind of person could move with that amount of speed and stealth—a Turk. And only one Turk had red hair.

_Reno._

Before he could lunge at the Turk, the helicopter picked up speed and finally opened fire on them, forcing them to scrabble for cover, desperately dodging a hailstorm of bullets. By the time the chopper had passed, Reno was finished with his business and inching away from them toward the edge of the platform—mag rod held defensively in front of him. Zack could only assume the Turk had triggered the bomb.

They were too late.

"What did you do, Reno?" Zack yelled, raising his sword and preparing for an attack.

Reno actually smiled at him—though the gesture bordered on a dry smirk. "Zack Fair. It's good to know you're alive."

And for some reason, Zack knew Reno was sincere. He struggled to ignore the prick of pain in chest and the memories of the missions he'd gone on with Reno. Back in Shinra, he'd liked the redheaded Turk well enough, even considered him a friend—well, as much of a friend as a Turk could be. It hurt to see him on the opposite side … and willing to kill so many innocent people. The Reno Zack remembered never would've let such a thing happen.

_Which means he's your enemy, not your friend. _

"What did you do?!" He yelled again, advancing on the Turk. Maybe he could corner him. Behind him, Tifa and Barrett rushed to the control panel and hurriedly began pressing buttons, searching for a way to stop the bomb, while Cloud moved forward to provide Zack with back-up should he need it.

Reno shook his head, noticing Tifa and Barrett's frantic actions. "It's too late. The security system is activated. You're all under arrest."

Zack frowned, puzzled and frustrated. Security system? What are you talking about?!"

Reno lowered his mag rod briefly—a smirk pulling the corner of his mouth upward. "Well—" His explanation was interrupted by the furious roar of an explosion.

The platform rocked, throwing them all off balance, and ash and dirt rained down on their heads as fire blossomed at the juncture of the pillar and the massive plate. Zack gaped up at it in horror, feeling shock lock his muscles and limbs in place. To his amazement, Reno stared up at the growing fire with the same expression on his face and Zack could see the Turk's lips moving, forming words of disbelief.

"No … he told me…"

Barrett took advantage of the Turk's distraction and charged with a mighty roar of fury, metal fist raised. Reno's head snapped in Barrett's direction a second too late. The Turk dodged but it wasn't enough; Barrett's metal fist slammed into his arm and the harsh crack of a breaking bone grated on Zack's ears. Reno let loose a pained cry and crashed to his knees—his mag rod rolling away across the platform as it slipped from suddenly limp fingers. Clutching his broken arm with his good hand, Reno gazed up at Barrett with a mixture of anger and … guilt?

"It's over, Turk!" Barrett snarled—bringing his fist up high above Reno's head while the other members of AVALANCHE looked on in grim silence—dozens of emotions coursing through them. When Barrett brought his massive fist down, Reno rolled out of the way, shooting to his feet and jumping backwards away from the furious leader.

Zack put aside all hesitation and went in for the kill, but as he brought his blade back in preparation for a swing that would probably cleave Reno in half he caught sight of the Turk's face and hesitated. The eyes looking at him were too pained, too guilty, too _human _and all Zack could see was the somewhat-friend and always good comrade from his days in Shinra. And he could never kill a friend. So at the last minute he altered the arc of his sword and as Reno twisted away, it caught him in the side instead of the stomach. Red blossomed across the Turk's white shirt and black jacket, staining it permanently. He hissed in pain even as his hand dug into his jacket and pulled a gun from it. Holding it out in front of him, he clicked the safety off and aimed at Zack and Barrett, stopping them in their tracks.

"Stay back!" Reno demanded, panting.

More debris rained down on the platform, shaking it roughly and above the din, the low whine of a helicopter pierced their ears. The craft appeared through the smoke with its doors open and a bald man in sunglasses crouched in the opening, reaching down.

_Rude, _Zack thought. It wasn't a surprise. Wherever Reno went, Rude was almost always present too.

"Reno!" The bald Turk snapped, extending his hand further, gesturing for his partner to grab on.

In an impressive display of skill Reno spun on his heel, launched himself onto the railing and then jumped off, grabbing Rude's outstretched hand with his good one. Rude grabbed the back of Reno's suit jacket with his other hand and hauled his wounded partner into the helicopter. The doors slid shut and the chopper did a sharp turn and fled the scene, vanishing into the smoke.

Barrett howled in frustration and Zack sighed, only able to feel relief. He hadn't wanted Reno to die, in spite of current events. Cloud and Tifa rushed forward, stopping just behind Barrett and Zack, panic on their faces.

"We have to get out of here!" Tifa screamed.

Before Zack could respond another helicopter cut through the smoke and paused, hovering just beyond the platform. A familiar dark-haired Turk stood in the doorway, peering down at them with sad eyes.

"Tseng!" Zack screamed, enraged. Tseng had also been a friend and seeing him involved in this hurt more than he cared to admit.

Tseng glanced at him, face carefully set in a neutral look, though his eyes betrayed his reluctance and pain over this whole situation. "I'm sorry, Zack." He was barely audible over the sounds of the slowly breaking pillar, but Zack read his lips and frowned at the words.

Barrett raised his gun arm—features twisted into an almost feral look of rage and sorrow. "Damn Turk!" He yelled, leveling the gun at Tseng.

"I wouldn't do that," Tseng remarked and stepped to the side, revealing a girl in blue and pink and brown—tied up and kneeling on the floor of the helicopter.

The air froze in Zack's lungs and his heart stopped beating as his whole body went numb.

_No! No, no, __**no… **_

Aerith raised her head and her pained eyes locked onto his horrified ones as she smiled at him briefly. The gesture broke down the walls and let emotion rage through him—anger, fear, heartache, despair.

"Aerith!" It was a frantic scream and looking back later on, Zack would realize that Tseng flinched at the sound.

Remarkably, her smile didn't waver. "Don't worry, she's safe. Everything's going to be alright."

The doors were closing, locking her away. Zack moved without even realizing it, racing forward and leaping up onto the railing, nearly throwing himself over it in an attempt to reach the helicopter. This couldn't be happening. It _couldn't. _He wouldn't let it.

_I can't lose her! _

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, preventing him from jumping off the platform after the retreating helicopter.

_No, let me go! _

"Get off!" He yelled and without thinking, slammed his elbow back into the person's face, hoping they would release him. There was a gasp and a grunt of pain, but the hold didn't loosen.

"Zack." Cloud's voice breached the fog of anger and echoed in his head.

He twisted and blinked in shock at the angry red cut above his friend's eye. Guilt rapidly dampened the fury as realization dawned on him. He had caused that. He'd hit Cloud.

_No…_

This was all too much and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think; he was drowning in the storm of emotion that cut him to ribbons inside, reducing him to a trembling pile of nothing. But Cloud was there, an anchor in the midst of his pain, and when the blond began to gently tug him away from the railing, he let himself be led. Cloud gripped his shoulders once he was more or less standing back on the platform and Zack winced at the slight fear he saw in those dark blue eyes.

_Did I put that there? _

"Zack, please calm down. We'll get her back. But right now, we need to get out of here. Please."

No words would come so Zack merely nodded, feeling tired and numb. Barrett beckoned them over to where he and Tifa stood near the edge of the platform. "I found this," he hefted a thick cable in one hand. "It should get us outta here safely. Get on!"

The platform wobbled dangerously again and huge chunks of debris and metal fell on all sides, urging the trapped group to move quickly. They piled onto the cable—Tifa in Barrett's arms, Cloud on his shoulders, and Zack on his back, gripping onto his vest. "

Hang on!" Barrett yelled and pushed off the railing with all his might, just as the pillar began to break and collapse in on itself, sending up a wall of smoke after the small band of rebels.

The world blurred on all sides and Zack shut his eyes tightly, praying fervently they would make it. It would certainly take a miracle.

* * *

This is the death of Sector 7:

Cloudbursts of fire that bathe the night in an orange glow, visible in every section of the great city. The plate wavers and sways as one by one, its support pillars are demolished, sealing its gruesome fate. At last, it falls, crushing the slums below and the shrieking of twisted metal rents the air, rising above the angry roar of the multiple explosions. But the loudest of all are the screams of the wounded and the dying, filling the night and chilling all who hear them, lamenting Shinra's cruelty.

High above the city, two men watch the destruction from behind a safe shield of glass. From here, it all looks small and insignificant but both men bear equal amounts and pain and sorrow on their faces as horrified eyes observe the end of thousands of innocent lives. Death, in its highest, most twisted form. The glass keeps them from hearing the screams, but they can both imagine what they must sound like and it digs into their hearts.

The first man finally tears his eyes away from the horrific spectacle below to his companion. "Do you think AVALANCHE survived?" His voice is hoarse and breaks with emotion, but there is a tiny grain of hope as well.

The other man doesn't look away from the window, but his hand clenches into a fist hard enough for fingernails to leave deep crescent indents in the flesh of his palm. His voice is more composed than the first man's but sorrow is still evident beneath the outward façade of calm. "I don't know. It would take a miracle."

They fall silent, then, and simply bow their heads in mourning, unable to believe the tragedy still unfolding before their eyes. And they remained trapped behind glass, unable to do a single thing.

A few floors up from the two men, the king of the world watches Sector 7 die. But instead of expressing grief, or remorse, or pain, he smiles.

What he sees below him … is beautiful.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a captured flower, a broken team, and a bitter resentment.

* * *


	15. XIV: Ashes and Dust

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, sorry this Friday looks a lot like a Monday. Like I said, life's unpredictable and it's been a busy weekend getting ready to move so I had barely any time to write. However, this chapter is now my longest yet. It kind of got away from me and ended up being a lot longer than I first anticipated. But I'm very happy with the end result. XD**

**This is kind of a transition chapter dealing with the aftermath of the plate from both sides: the Turks and AVALANCHE. It was also a way for me to develop the Turks a little bit more. **

**Notes for further reference: **

**1) I needed more than the original four Turks for this story but didn't want to use all the Turks from Before Crisis, so I picked three: Rod, Cissnei, and Katana, who willed be called Zane in this story. For those of you who aren't familiar with Before Crisis I apologize. Information on these three Turks and pictures of them can be found at finalfantasy. wikia. com and search for Before Crisis. The reason I picked these three is I wanted to have a wide range of abilities across all seven Turks, as well as personalities and backgrounds, making them as diverse as possible. These three suited that desire. **

**2) For this story, Elena is not a rookie but has been in the Turks as long as Reno and Rude, having gone through training with them. She was off guarding Rufus in Junon until recently. I also changed Elena's personality a great deal. I wanted to portray her in a different way than the ditz in the game. Also, for this story, Elena was the first girl in the Turks, then Cissnei came along. So a bit of a rivalry exists between them that will manifest itself later. **

**3) Elena, Reno, and Rude came first and were the first Turks trained by Tseng in his new position as field commander. Then, a few years later, Cissnei, Rod, and Zane (Katana) followed when Shinra needed more manpower after Tseng was appointed leader when Veld detected. (Information on that can also be found on the above mentioned site, under Before Crisis.) This is not canon, but a background I invented for the game. **

**I hope that helps everyone understand the Turks from Sunrise a bit better and I hope you all like this new version of Elena. I do. XD**

**I won't keep you any longer. Read on, and review! I'd love to hear your thoughts, positive or negative, on this chapter. :D **

* * *

The first thing that breached the darkness of his world was pain—pricking all over his body like a thousand needles. Next, sound slowly drifted into his mind—voices floating across an endless sea, faint and barely recognizable; some were louder than others, seeming desperate. Wearily, he struggled to focus on them and string the garbled words into some kind of sensible order. After a few long seconds, he began to understand and each voice adopted its own tone and pitch, speaking clear words.

"_I can't find my daughter!" _

"_Has anyone seen a boy with dark hair and brown eyes?" _

"_Ella! Where are you?"_

"_How could this happen?!" _

"_Zack!" _

He frowned at the last voice, feeling as though he should know it. And what it was saying seemed … familiar. Who?

"_Zack!" _

Zack … that was his name. Who was calling his name? It sounded like …

"_**Zack!" **_

… Tifa.

Slowly, Zack forced his heavy eyelids open and blinked repeatedly, trying to bring the world into focus. When the blurry image cleared, he found two wine-colored eyes framed by dark hair and set in pale skin staring at him. Tifa.

He tried to speak, but his throat remained clenched shut, trapping the words inside. The pain was sharper now—needles digging in deeper. He tried to ignore it and stretched his lips into what he hoped was a reassuring smile that would ease the troubled frown on Tifa's face. It most likely came out as a grimace judging from the way Tifa shook her head and smiled ruefully at him.

"That won't fool me, Zack. Let's see if we can get you upright."

Zack finally managed to force one broken, rough word from his aching throat. "O…kay"

Tifa gripped his gloved hands, braced her feet against the ground and pulled him up into a sitting position. He gasped as the needles briefly turned to knives, stabbing her mercilessly—concentrating on the area around his ribs, up near his shoulder, and down at his left ankle.

"Ow…" he hissed, clamping his eyes shut and fighting off the knives.

They finally faded back into needles again and he glanced up at Tifa. "Are you okay?"

The minute the question left his lips, he winced, realizing how utterly stupid it sounded. How could she be okay? He could plainly see the cut on her forehead, the ribbons of red lacing her arms all the way down to the top her gloves, and her dead, haunted eyes full of shadows.

She scoffed, but didn't insult him, changing the subject instead. "Barrett's still unconscious."

He followed her gaze and saw Barrett's bulky frame lying a few feet away, near the base of the slide. Zack paused, frowning. Slide? His eyes widened as he suddenly realized where they were and his heart ached at the condition it was in. The old swing set was a pile of rusted metal, the slide was coated in ash and full of new dents, and the area surrounding the playground was littered with rubble. People milled about—comforting each other, sitting alone and nursing their wounds, calling desperately for lost loved ones, weeping, or wandering aimlessly around in a daze.

It was a grim sight.

And something was missing from it—a certain blond. "Where's Cloud?" Zack asked, jerking his head back to Tifa.

"I can't find him." Her eyes were full of barely repressed panic and her voice sounded so grim it scared him.

Gasping, Zack jumped to his feet—propelled by a surge of adrenaline—and broke into a sloppy run. His left ankle wasn't cooperating and the knives were back, digging into him, but he ignored it all. "Cloud!"

A few heads turned, but they didn't offer help—far too consumed with their own problems. Tifa hurried to his side and helped him search, scanning the piles of wreckage desperately.

"There!" she cried suddenly, pointing to a familiar pair of black combat boots sticking out from beneath a large metal girder and what looked to be the remains of metal siding for a house.

Zack half-ran, half-staggered forward and fell to his knees beside the boots, gripping them and pulling with all his strength. Cloud didn't budge.

"He's trapped!" Zack snapped to Tifa as he once again scrambled to his feet. "We have to lift this junk off him!"

Tifa hurried to his side and together they gripped the large piece of metal trapping their friend and heaved with all their might. Even with Zack's abnormal strength it wasn't enough. He was too tired, too drained, and too wounded to muster the physical strength to lift the object, as he should have been able to. Tifa panted beside him—also far too hurt to be of much help. He hissed in frustration as the thing barely rose up a few inches—hardly enough space to pull Cloud out. He was starting to lose his grip and scrabbled desperately for purchase when another pair of hands appeared next to his, adding their strength.

He turned his head and blinked in surprise at the total stranger, covered in grime, blood, and ash, grunting as he helped lift the heavy piece of rubble. Sensing Zack's eyes on him, the man turned and offered up a tired, halfhearted smile.

"Enough people have died tonight," he explained grimly.

Zack could only nod in heartsick agreement. He was still trying not to think about it. Another, younger man—no, a boy really—joined the group and bit by torturous bit the metal rose upwards until it was high enough to free Cloud.

"Someone grab him!" Zack yelled—voice cracking from the strain.

A woman in a ratty dress rushed forward, gripped Cloud's boots, and pulled. Soon, Cloud's unconscious body was free but before they could lower the metal, the boy gasped. "Someone else is in there!" He leaned closer and his eyes widened. "It's my sister! We have to get her out!"

Zack peered into the shadows and frowned. The girl was a bit further back than Cloud had been and one arm seemed to be trapped beneath the metal girder. Someone would have to crawl and free her, or lift the girder off her. The woman near Cloud wasn't strong enough for such a task and if any of the men let go of the metal siding it would fall—what should have been easy to lift was much harder in their wounded condition. They needed more manpower.

Almost as if he had been summoned, Barrett appeared, looking a little dazed and puzzled over the strange proceedings in front of him. With a tired frown, the burly man wiped blood from his forehead and asked in a confused tone. "What are you doin', kid?"

"Barrett! Get that metal girder and lift it up! There's a girl under there," Zack called, hoping Barrett wasn't too out of it and could still be of use to them.

Barrett's eyes widened and he hurried forward, gripping the edge of the metal girder and pulling it sideways slowly, off the girl. Metal grated on metal as the siding and the girder rubbed together, aggravating eardrums and making everyone present wince. But it didn't stop the rescue from continuing. Once the girl's arm was free, the woman crawled fearlessly in and pulled her out, cradling her in her arms. The men let go of the siding in exhaustion and it crashed to ground, stirring up a large cloud of dust that stung eyes and throats.

The boy ran to the woman and knelt beside the girl. "Ella!" He cried, shaking her as the woman handed her frail body to him. "Wake up!"

The woman watched sadly and Zack wondered who she had lost tonight. A husband? A child? The boy—no older than fifteen—was sobbing and clinging to the girl, face buried in her tattered dress. A glance over his shoulder assured him that Tifa and Barrett were taking care of Cloud so ignoring the pain still clawing at him and the exhaustion beckoning him into blissful unconsciousness, Zack stumbled over to the small group and knelt beside the boy, reaching out slowly and checking the girl's pulse. It was there, faint, but proof enough she was alive.

"She's alive," he murmured and the boy looked up at him in relief. Zack looked down and noticed how limp the girl's arm was. "Her arm's broken, though."

The boy's green eyes were pleading. "Can't you do anything for her? I can't lose her!"

With a pang, Zack thought of Aerith. He glanced down at the girl again, knowing instantly she was all this boy had. She was so small and pale, dark hair matted and angelic features marred with soot and filth, but he still saw innocence and a life ruined by cruelty. Zack's jaw set in quiet determination as he once again pushed his own discomfort aside.

Enough people had died tonight.

"I can try to fashion a splint and check her over for other injuries."

A spark of hope flickered in the boy's too dead eyes and the ghost of a smile danced briefly across bruised lips. "Thank you!"

Zack couldn't smile back. "Thank me when we save her."

The woman was tearing at her skirt, pulling pieces off for bandages. "Will this help?" She asked, offering Zack the fabric. He took it gently, managing to dredge up a grateful smile.

"What's your name?" He asked, suddenly needing to know—to etch it into his mind so he never forgot her or anyone else he met on this hellish night.

She lowered her eyes. "Sonya." Looking at her now, he realized she couldn't be much older than Aerith or him, maybe by a year or two.

"That's a nice name," he smiled encouragingly as he looked around for something to use as a brace for the girl's arm.

She seemed a little intimidated by him, though he didn't blame her—glowing eyes and a big sword was a frightening combination.

"I'm not with Shinra," he assured her gently. "I'm not going to hurt you." He rambled on, wanting to appease her, wanting to make her smile, just once. "Sorry if the sword is scary and my eyes are freaky, I know. The sword is kind of a sentimental thing and I try not to use it very often. I only ever really do when I'm beating up Shinra soldiers and the eyes, well, I used to like them because they were different, you know? But now they're just annoying because wherever I go people give me weird looks—or maybe that's the sword? No, I think it's the eyes. Eyes just aren't supposed to glow. And whoever had the bright idea to infuse people with mako is really a lunatic and an idiot. I wonder if he just liked the pretty side effect because I do think glowing eyes are kind of pretty in their own way. Aerith thinks so. I'm not trying to brag or anything…" He clapped his mouth shut, realizing he was babbling again.

But Sonya was smiling at him in bemusement, the boy was actually chuckling, and both seemed relaxed—all traces of fear gone. "I'm Colin," the boy offered. "This is my little sister Ella."

A smile came easier this time. "Nice to meet you, Colin."

"That's my husband Dalan," Sonya said, pointing to the man who had helped earlier. Zack looked up and saw him striding over, carrying two pieces of metal that would work nicely for a splint.

"These will help," he said, kneeling next to Zack. At Zack's questioning look, he smiled sadly. "I'm a doctor."

"I see," Zack said, wondering again who they had lost tonight and what they had been like before all this.

He shoved it aside, telling himself not to think about it. He would break down. And he couldn't afford that right now. So he focused on trivial things, as they were doing, and sought a distraction from the horrible reality of what had just occurred and the hysteria that was lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

"I'm Zack Fair," he said, smiling again. "The blond guy is Cloud Strife, the woman is Tifa Lockhart, and the big man with the metal hand is Barrett Wallace."

The small group nodded and Dalan went to work on fixing up Ella, carefully examining her for more injuries and splinting her broken arm. Seeing that everything was in order, Zack rose shakily to his feet. "I'll be back in a minute. I want to check on my friends." They nodded in understanding and he shuffled away.

Tifa had Cloud's head in her lap and thankfully, the blond eyes were open, though they were empty and glazed with fatigue. Barrett sat a few feet away with his head in his hands, shoulders shaking in silent grief. Cloud's eyes lit up a little when he saw him approaching.

"Zack," he said softly, trying to sit up. Tifa pulled him back down with a quiet reprimand and though he looked uncomfortable by his position he obeyed and remained still.

"Hey, buddy," Zack replied, kneeling next to his friend and squeezing his shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay."

"You're hurt." Cloud's observant eyes took in Zack's multiple cuts and the stiff way he sat.

Zack waved his hand in a casually dismissive gesture. "We're all banged up. I'd be amazed if we weren't."

"Is the girl…?" Cloud broke off, afraid to say the rest.

Zack blinked down at him in surprise. "You know her?"

Cloud's eyes were haunted. "She was … awake for awhile. We were … stuck and couldn't … get loose. She was … sobbing and … begging … for her brother. I just … held onto her … and tried to … tried to help her … but…" He closed his eyes, shutting away the painful, terrifying memory.

Zack swallowed, hating that Cloud had to live through that, feel that helplessness that only came with watching someone in pain or dying and not being able to do a single thing to help them, even ease their suffering. "She's okay," he said softly. "She's pretty beat up but a doctor is looking at her."

Cloud slumped in relief, closing his eyes wearily. Tifa looked up in surprise. "A doctor?"

Zack nodded. "One of the men is a doctor."

Tifa looked back down at Cloud. "Oh."

Suddenly, Barrett lifted his head and let loose a loud scream full of pain, rage, and heartache. Everyone in the small playground looked up in mild surprise, but no one flinched and no one seemed too shocked. The cry reflected the things locked in each heart present and they let it echo, adding their own silent grief to it.

At last, Barrett's voice gave out and he slumped to the ground again with a dry sob. "Marlene," he moaned. "Marlene was in there."

Cloud's eyes flew open and Tifa choked in horror and fear. "No…" she hiccupped.

Aerith's face flitted in front of Zack's mind. _"Don't worry, she's safe." _

"She's safe," he breathed. His three comrades turned to look at him with slightly hopeful but cautious eyes. He met each of their gazes in turn as his eyes rapidly filled with life. "Aerith said she was safe! Marlene's okay!"

For some reason, this new knowledge filled him with a renewed sense of hope and strength. Something had been saved tonight and that counted for a lot. The others' eyes showed the same feelings he new burned in his own and Barrett surged to his feet, looking like a leader again instead of a broken man—or maybe like a determined father. "We gotta go find Marlene."

Zack smiled softly, knowing instantly where Aerith had taken her and remembering a small house tucked away in Sector 5 with an unusual garden and full of delicious smells, watched over by a petite woman with a big heart. "I know where she is," he said, looking up at Barrett.

The flickering hope blazed into a raging fire with an edge of urgency. "Then let's go get her!"

Zack pushed himself up again and reached to help Cloud, steadying his friend gently. "You okay, buddy?"

Cloud nodded. "Y-yeah. Nothing hurts."

Zack felt sad at that and realized that Cloud's inability to feel pain had increased. The large gash on Cloud's back, the possibly cracked ribs, and dislocated shoulder were probably the worse injuries the blond had sustained since waking up and he felt nothing.

"Right," Zack mumbled, wrapping his arm around Cloud anyway just to be safe … and help keep himself upright, but he wouldn't admit that out loud. He sighed softly, bowing his head. He didn't think he'd ever felt more tired in his life.

Cloud glanced at him in concern. "Zack, are you okay?"

Zack sighed. "Don't let go, kay? I don't want to fall flat on my face. So … tired."

Tifa patted his shoulder. "I think we all are," she mumbled.

Cloud nodded agreement. "Yeah." Even his voice sounded a little strained.

Only Barrett seemed to possess a substantial amount or energy. "Let's go!" He urged his ragged companions. They all scowled at him. Even Cloud's eyes narrowed slightly in frustration.

"Give us a minute," Tifa snapped.

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "I'd like to say good-bye." He titled his head over to the small group on the side of the playground.

"I'll come too," Cloud murmured and ignoring Barrett's cursing and grumbling as usual, the two shuffled slowly over to the other survivors.

The all looked up when Zack and Cloud approached with tired smiles on their dirty faces. Zack was thrilled to see that Ella was awake and snuggled deep in her brother's protective arms, peering at him with big, curious eyes.

"Hey," Zack greeted with a wave. "We came to wish you luck."

Dalan nodded and stood, clasping Zack's shoulder. "You too, Zack."

They stared at each for a minute, unwilling to say such a final word as good-bye. There had been far too many good-byes tonight. Though they had only known each other for about an hour, shared trauma forged a friendship.

"Take care," Sonya broke in.

"Yeah," Colin piped up, smiling at Zack. "Thanks for helping with Ella."

"Thank you," Ella whispered shyly and Zack smiled brightly at her.

"Thank Cloud," he said, pushing his friend forward gently.

The blond knelt hesitantly in front of Ella and she smiled brightly at him, obviously remembering who he was. Still shy, she reached out and timidly hugged him, murmuring a heartfelt thank you. Cloud stiffened and coughed awkwardly but managed to choke out a response.

"I'm glad … you're safe," he told her at last, patting her back awkwardly.

She pulled away and nodded. Colin offered his hand solemnly. "Thank you, sir."

Cloud took it cautiously, letting Colin shake it, and mumbled a stuttering, "you're welcome," before rising slowly to his feet.

"Take care," Zack echoed Sonya's words. The band of survivors nodded somberly and waved farewell.

Zack knew he would never see them again, but prayed that somehow, they would stay safe. Leaving them behind, he silently followed Barrett out of the playground, carefully picking his way through the rubble as they forged a path to Aerith's house and the little ray of sunlight waiting for them there.

* * *

_"You!" _

Tseng had prepared himself for Reno's wrath but he hadn't expected the word to be quite so venomous or his face to be twisted into such a look of utter disgust. Before he could move or offer a word in his defense, Reno's hand grabbed the front of his suit jacket and he found himself staring into a pair of light blue eyes that spit fire at him, threatening to burn him alive. He maintained a calm façade as Reno shook him roughly.

"Damn you, Tseng!" He spat. "How could you?!" He paused for a moment and the fire dimmed, replaced with dark shadows. "All those people…" the Turk murmured, almost to himself. Then he glanced back up at Tseng and rage gained control of his features again. "How could you lie to me?!"

"Would you have gone through with it?" Tseng asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, ignoring Aerith's wide-eyed stare.

Reno heisted for barely a second. "No."

"Then you see why lying to you was necessary," Tseng reasoned.

Reno's angry look didn't lessen—in fact, he seemed more furious than before. "That's not the _point." _He gave Tseng a good shake for emphasis. "The _point _is that you went through with it at all! Do you have _any _idea how _many _people _died _tonight?!"

Reno's face contorted—trapped between rage and agony—but Tseng remained impassive. "That is not our concern. We are Turks. Our job is simply to follow orders."

Reno looked like he wanted to hit him. _Hard. _The hand in Tseng's jacket tightened to the point of nearly choking off his air supply as his collar pushed against his throat. He gritted his teeth and fought off the urge to retaliate or even just shove Reno away, knowing it would make this already volatile situation explode. So, he relaxed his tense shoulders as much as possible—secretly glad Reno was shorter than him—and let his subordinate vent. After a moment, Reno continued.

"I don't _care! _I know we're monsters! But t_his_…" His voice broke and he looked away, struggling with something Tseng couldn't define. Instead of dwelling on it, the leader of the Turks focused on pushing aside the guilt still gnawing at his insides. He hadn't thought Reno would react so strongly to all of this.

Reno looked like he wanted to say more, but the hiss of elevator doors opening ended their confrontation. Swiftly, the redhead released him and took a step back, trying to school his features and churning eyes into a controlled, neutral look. Tseng noticed for the first time that his subordinate's white shirt and black jacket were stained a dark red and a nasty slash marred the fabric, revealing a deep, angry crimson line across the flesh beneath.

"You're injured?" Aerith's voice brought his thoughts to life. She moved forward slightly—the healer in her wanting to help, though she was cuffed and couldn't do a single thing.

She seemed calm, in spite of her current situation, and Reno's haunted eyes lightened a little, for her sake. "I'm…"

"Good, you've brought her." A new voice cut into the conversation—high-pitched with hints of insanity and menace that were almost impossible to ignore.

Tseng flinched inwardly as Aerith recoiled and Reno stiffened. Both Turks recognized and hated that voice while Aerith could remember it well enough from her nightmares. Professor Hojo approached them at a clipped pace—hands clasped behind his back, shoulders hunched, and strands of greasy brown hair brushing the collar of his immaculate lab coat. His eyes—full of something that always made a shiver run down Tseng's spine—pierced them from behind the shield of his glasses.

Unconsciously, the two Turks united against the new enemy and moved protectively in front of Aerith. Reno's eyes blazed as his glared balefully at the scientist and his good hand hovered close to his gun, fingers twitching from the tension in the muscles.

"_Hojo," _he spat out the name like poison, "what do you want?"

Hojo didn't seem fazed by the Turk's anger and offered them a smile that bordered on maniacal. "I've come to collect my specimen, of course." He brought a hand up and pointed to the wide-eyed flower girl clutching onto the back of Reno's jacket, looking like she couldn't decide whether to be terrified or furious. "Hand her over, please."

The 'please' tacked onto the end did nothing to ease the threatening note in Hojo's tone and the two Shinra grunts behind him tensed, clutching their weapons to their chests with not quite steady hands and hoping they wouldn't have to go up against Turks.

Reno shot Tseng a murderous look. "Did you…?"

Tseng shook his head—pain and disbelief in his eyes. "I didn't know about this."

Hojo smirked, amused by their distress and protectiveness. "Well?" He asked almost impatiently. A specimen like this was a treasure and he was eager to begin his work.

Tseng took a deep, shuddering breath that expelled dozens of emotions and stepped to the side, bowing his head so he wouldn't have to meet Aerith and Reno's stunned and angry gazes.

"Tseng," Aerith murmured in a hurt, betrayed voice that made Tseng cringe inside. He hated hurting her like this.

"I'm sorry," he said softly and gestured for the two grunts to take her, trying hard to ignore Hojo's satisfied, almost predatory smile.

Aerith struggled when the soldiers grabbed her arms, kicking and trying to wrench herself free. "Let me go!" She hissed, no longer terrified. They just chuckled darkly and dragged her down the hall after the retreating professor.

They were at the elevator when Reno snapped out of his stunned stupor. With an angry cry, he lunged forward, making it to the door just before it closed. As it slid shut, Aerith and Reno stared at each other with identical expressions of dismay. Then, the elevator doors closed, sealing Aerith's fate.

Reno slammed his fist into the metal repeatedly. "_No! _You can't do this! _No, no…"_

"Let her go," Tseng muttered from a few feet away. "There's nothing we can do."

Reno whirled around, glaring at him heatedly. "_Shut up! _How can you just _stand _there? I _know _you care about her!" Tseng looked away, but his rigid shoulders gave away his answer. Reno kept speaking, breaking more with each passionate word. "How … how can we just let this happen? Aerith … and the plate … all of it! We could've done _something. _I _hate _this! Where's the president? I'm going to _kill _him!"

Tseng's head came up and his eyes turned stern. "Don't say things like that!" He scolded angrily.

But Reno wasn't listening. The redhead's face was ghost white, eyes wide, and with a soft gasp, he collapsed onto the tiled floor, blood slowly pooling beneath him, seeping from the gash on his side. Tseng cursed and rushed to his side, avoiding the blood as he knelt to take Reno's pulse. It fluttered faintly beneath his fingers—weak and fading. Another string of expletives escaped Tseng's mouth and he struggled to pull the redhead into his arms, knowing he wasn't strong enough to carry Reno all the way to the infirmary but willing to try.

Why did this night keep spiraling out of control?

Pounding footsteps caught his attention and he looked up, sighing with relief at the sight of Rude and Rod rounding the corner at a full run. Both men screeched to a halt and stared in surprise at the sight of a blood soaked Reno in Tseng's arms.

"What happened?" Rod asked, stepping forward cautiously, concern flickering in his gray eyes. The young Turk and Reno often didn't get along and stated their plain dislike for each other almost constantly, but beneath the heated rivalry lay a strong friendship neither one would admit to.

"AVALANCHE," Tseng replied tersely, noticing how tired and pale Rod looked—drained of the fiery life and spirit that normally burned strong within him. This nightmare was haunting them all.

Rude stepped forward and took Reno gently from Tseng's arms. Tseng tried to ignore the red stains covering the front and sleeves of his jacket and looked up at Rude. The stoic man's face was neutral, as always, but Tseng could sense the underlying worry he was hiding.

"Get him to the infirmary," he ordered.

Rude nodded and hurried off, trying to walk as quickly as possible without jostling his injured partner. Once he was gone, Tseng turned to Rod. "Find Elena. She'll be taking over Reno's current duties while Cissnei handles her job of guarding the vice president."

Rod inclined his head and followed Rude swiftly.

Tseng massaged his temple, feeling a migraine starting to develop, and wondered what else could possibly go wrong tonight.

* * *

To say Elmyra Gainsborough was surprised when she opened the door and found Zack Fair standing on her doorstep would be an understatement. The woman was absolutely flabbergasted and Zack watched with some amusement as her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open in an undignified manner unbecoming for the normally poised woman. The fact that his clothes were ripped, his skin marred with dirt, cuts and bruises, and his hair a wild mess probably didn't help. Or the three people standing behind him looking just as horrible—including a huge man with a metal arm.

"Hello, Mrs. Gainsborough," he began awkwardly. "Sorry I haven't come to visit in so long."

"Zack Fair," she breathed in disbelief. "Aerith told me you were back but…" She shook her head in amazement.

Barrett grew tired of the pleasantries and elbowed his way forward. "Where's Marlene?" he asked, desperate to make sure his daughter was safe and sound.

Elmyra blinked up at him in surprise, but rapidly regained her composure. "The little girl Aerith brought here is upstairs sleeping. I'd rather not disturb her and you all look like you are in desperate need of some food and bandages."

Barrett looked ready to protest but Tifa shushed him irritability and Zack smiled gratefully at Aerith's adoptive mother. "Thank you, that would be wonderful."

She granted him a tired smile in return and stepped aside to let them in. They kicked off their muddy boots at the door, unwilling to dirty her floor, and moved into the spacious great room that was a kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one.

"You have a lovely home," Tifa said and Elmyra smiled at her.

"Thank you," she replied kindly and pointed to an old couch and chairs in one section of the room. "Please have a seat while I go find some medical supplies."

The group sank wearily onto the seats—Tifa, Cloud, and Zack taking the couch while Barrett squeezed into an overstuffed armchair. Silence filled the room as they stared at each with glazed eyes, quietly sharing the pain and trauma raging through them. After a long moment, Barrett spoke quietly. "Biggs … Wedge … and Jessie … did you … see them?"

Zack blanched, shying away from the images of the three's blood-soaked bodies and stuttering last words. "Yeah," he mumbled, trying desperately to forget Jessie's empty eyes for fear that he would loose what little composure he had left. "They all died … before the plate fell. We … were with them."

Barrett hung his head in silent grief, hands clasping the arms of the chair tightly as he fought off his tears. Zack sank back against the couch, feeling sleep tugging at him. He'd never been so drained in his life—physically and emotionally. It was a miracle he was able to still function when all he wanted to do was break down in hysterics. Tifa looked about ready to as well, but she carefully kept her tears at bay. Cloud sensed her distress and looked as though he wanted to comfort her but still didn't know how. He looked as tired and drained as she did—his eyes glowing almost feverishly in his too pale face. As Zack looked closer, he noticed the tremor running through the blonde's body and realized that Cloud was slowly going into shock.

Scooting closer, he put a gentle hand on his friend's trembling shoulder. Cloud turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Cloud, buddy, you okay?" Zack asked, trying to mask his worry.

Cloud shook his head and the shaking got worse. "I … I…"

"Shh," Zack soothed. "It's okay. Just try not to think about all this, okay?"

Cloud frowned. "I-I c-can't help it."

Tifa looked up, alarmed at the stutter in Cloud's voice and the way his eyes were slowing glazing over. She too moved closer and wrapped her arms around Cloud, trying to anchor him. Zack did the same from the other side, whispering encouraging words into his friend's ear. "We've got you, Cloud. It's going to be okay. Just stay with us, all right? We've got you."

Cloud nodded slowly, trying to stop his shaking and focus. His face twisted as though he wanted to cry, but his eyes stayed dry and his breath came in deep, heaving gasps. Barrett looked up, watching them with a worried frown. "What's up with Spiky?" he asked.

"Shock," Zack responded curtly as he patted Cloud's back and Tifa stroked the side of his face. Cloud began to relax and the shaking died down.

"That's it, Cloud," Tifa murmured encouragingly. "We've got you."

Zack let go of the blond, knowing Tifa was better at this than him. Women almost always were. Tifa folded Cloud into her arms and ran a hand through his hair. Finally, his gasping breaths ceased and the tremors stopped completely but Tifa kept him in her arms a few moments longer, drawing as much comfort from his presence as he did from hers. Zack watched with a smile, glad Cloud was beginning to trust Tifa.

Elmrya's footsteps on the stairs helped pull them from the their grief and Cloud slowly pulled away from Tifa with a quiet, shy, "thank you."

Elmrya smiled at them in a motherly manner, though it was strained and Zack knew she must be worried and grieving, too. Her daughter was in the hands of a ruthless enemy. The thought of Aeriht, helpless and frightened in Shinra's clutches, brought the tears raging to the surface but he refused to give in.

_Later. I'll break down later. _

Elmyra set down her armload of medical supplies on the round table and motioned for them to come over. They all rose shakily and surrendered to treatment. Wounds were lathered with ointment and disinfect before being bandaged tightly by her skilled hands. After this task was done, Aerith's mother prepared a feast for them, working furiously in the kitchen to supply them with much needed sustenance. Zack knew she was distracting herself from her worry and pain and wished he could comfort her. But guilt and uncertainty held him back and he merely kept out of her way and concentrated on staying awake, fighting the exhaustion that kept tugging his eyelids down.

Once they had eaten, everyone looked a bit better than before. And the subject of Aerith was unavoidable. Zack approached Elmyra hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he whispered guiltily. "I should never have gotten her involved. I should have protected her. I…"

"Stop," Elmyra said harshly, holding up her hand. Zack stuttered to a halt, waiting for a reprimand. Instead her features softened and she smiled sadly. "She wouldn't blame you and you shouldn't blame yourself." She sighed, shaking her head. "You know, Zack, you're both the best and the worst thing that happened to my daughter."

He flinched. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be gone so long. So much happened. I'm so sorry. I…"

"Will you stop apologizing?!" She cut him off angrily and he clamped his mouth shut, locking the rest of his words away. "She never gave up on you. Even after four years she firmly believed you were coming back for her. And here you are." She shook her head in disbelief. "I know you love her, Zack." Her smiled grew warmer when she saw him blush and rub the back of his head nervously. "It's in your eyes, clear as day. And I know you'll save her. You always do."

He dropped his hand, taken aback by the absolute certainty in her voice, by her faith in him. He refused to let her down. "I will," he promised, determination hardening his eyes. "I'll bring her back."

Elmyra touched his arm gently. "Good. Then I won't worry."

"How did they get her?" Zack asked, needing to know but afraid of the answer.

"She brought the little girl here and they followed. She couldn't away fast enough so she traded the girl's safety for her freedom."

Zack hung his head. It sounded just like Aerith. Selfless. Even to the very end.

Barrett suddenly hurried over, an apologetic look on his face. "Marlene's my daughter. I'm sorry your girl got caught protectin' her. I'm sorry…"

"She's your daughter?" Elmyra asked in shock and outrage. "How can you leave her alone like that?!"

Barrett flinched, guilt sweeping across his granite face. "I know. It kills me, leavin' her behind like that. I just wanna be a good dad to her but… I gotta fight too. If I don't the planet's gonna die. So I fight and hope that I can bring her a better future. Even though I worry 'bout her all the time. What if somethin' happens to me and…" He paused, unable to go on, but the anger was gone from Elmyra's face and the petite woman extended a comforting hand.

"I … think I understand. I'm sorry for judging you."

"Daddy?" A quiet voice suddenly said and Barrett's face lit up when he saw the girl standing on the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

In two long strides he crossed the room, scooped her up in his massive arms, and held her close, burying his face in her hair as he wept with relief, words tumbling from his lips in an incoherent mess that mostly consisted of her name. "Marlene. Oh, Marlene. I'm so glad you're safe. Sorry … sorry … Marlene."

She smiled. "Don't cry, Daddy. I'm okay." Her face scrunched up as his bearded cheek rubbed against hers. "And your whiskers tickle!"

He laughed in spite of his tears while the rest of the group watched the tender reunion with gentle smiles, feeling something in their hearts lift at the sight—the first sign of beauty and hope on this never-ending night.

Marlene spotted Tifa over Barrett's shoulder and gasped in delight. "Tifa!" she cried and when Barrett set her down she ran to the warrior, arms outstretched.

Tifa picked her up and held her close, though staved off her tears, choosing to smile instead. "I'm glad you're okay, Marlene."

Marlene wrapped her small arms around Tifa's neck. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

Then, the little girl caught sight of Cloud. She squealed in joy and everyone laughed as she wriggled free from Tifa's arms and barreled into Cloud so hard he had to take a step back to keep his balance, a shocked look on his face.

"Cloud!" She yelled jubilantly into his pant leg. "You're okay!"

He bent down and let her hug him, holding her awkwardly in his arms. "I promised," he reminded her. She nodded seriously.

"Right. You did." Then she smiled brightly and hugged him tighter, happy her hero had come home safe. But even Cloud couldn't keep her long. She finished off her greeting by racing into Zack's arms.

"Zack!" She cried happily, trailing off into a shriek when he picked her up and swung her around with a wide grin.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, hearing life in his voice for the first time in a while. "Glad you're okay."

"Yeah," she agreed, hugging him in the same manner she had Tifa and Cloud. "You too." Then her face fell, adopting a serious look. "But Aerith isn't. Some mean men took her."

Zack's smile slipped. "Yes," he whispered brokenly.

"You'll get her back, right?" she asked, searching his face for some sign of reassurance.

Zack looked around the room and seeing agreement on every face, nodded, forcing the smile back onto his face. "Yeah. We'll get her back."

Marlene smiled brightly, feeling secure in Zack's promise. After all, Zack, Cloud, Tifa, and Daddy could do _anything. _

Barrett stepped forward and took Marlene into his arms. "C'mon, sweetheart. You need to go back to bed."

Marlene waved goodnight to all of them and Barrett disappeared upstairs, taking her sunlight with him and leaving the room in dark silence.

Elmyra turned to them. "You all should get some sleep too."

Zack protested. "We have to go help Aerith."

Elmyra shook her head firmly. "No. You'll be no good to her if you can barely stand upright."

Zack sighed, but seeing her point, relented. They spread out around the house—Barrett on the floor in Marlene's room, Tifa in Aerith's bed, Cloud on the couch (upon Zack's insistence), and Zack in the armchair.

Exhaustion pulled them all into a dreamless sleep, free from nightmares at last.

But briefly Zack wondered if they would ever fully recover.

* * *

Voices intruded in his black, numb world, babbling like water and accompanied by a continuous, annoying beeping. Frowning, he focused, managing to catch some of the voices' conversation.

"_… absolutely sure. He has …" _

_"Fine … not … word … anyone. Or else." _

_"But it's against …" _

_"… don't care. Speak of … anyone you'll … to me." _

_"Fine! I promise … won't … anything." _

_"Good. Can… him?" _

_"Yes … go …" _

The voices stopped and he slowly forced his eyes open, blinking at the blinding white ceiling that greeted him. Turning his head he saw white walls and a bunch of machinery—the source of the beeping. His lips twisted into a snarl of frustration. The infirmary. He _hated _this place. His arm and side felt stiff and something wrapped tightly around his skin, constricting his breathing. Something else was over his nose and mouth, its edges digging uncomfortable into the flesh of his cheeks. He tried to lift his hand to pull it off, but his arm felt like lead and he couldn't move it off the bed.

Sighing in frustration, he let his head fall back against the pillow, feeling as though someone had stuffed it with cotton. Everything felt heavy and the world seemed far away. Why he here?

There was another sound, like faint thunder, growing steadily louder. He winced as it echoed through his pounding head. A face obscured his view of the stark ceiling. He stared hard at the blonde hair and hazel eyes, trying to tack a name onto the familiar face.

"Elena?" he finally croaked out around the strange thing on his face. Stupid thing. It was so hard to speak with it on.

She smirked at him, though her eyes betrayed her concern as she reached down and helped him remove the annoying contraption stuck to his face. As she pulled it away he realized it was an oxygen mask. "Well, well Reno. Look who went and got beat up by a small band of rebels."

Her words brought the events of the last twenty-four hours back and they crashed over him like a tidal wave. He shut his eyes, fighting off the images of the falling plate, the fire, the twisting metal, the _screams. _

"Shut up," he hissed, opening his eyes to glare at her.

She seemed surprised by his angry response, but her smirk didn't waver. Leaning back and crossing her arms, she arched an eyebrow at him. "I'll admit that wasn't by far your best response. Did AVALANCHE hit you on the head, too?"

_"_Go away," he snarled viciously and the smirk vanished, replaced by a rare look of open concern.

"Reno…" she murmured in surprise.

Reno closed his eyes, unwilling to face the sympathy in her eyes. If Elena was giving him sympathy he must be really bad off. Maybe he was dying. Oh, he hoped so.

"Did you see?" he whispered, lids still shut.

Her response came in a tortured whisper. "Yes. All of it."

"He lied to me," Reno mumbled, refusing to look at her and settling for the opposite wall, trying to ignore the pressure of her gaze. "I didn't know…"

Now her voice was tight with anger, but it wasn't directed at him. "I know. It wasn't your fault. None of it."

Reno let a bitter laugh escaped him. "Yes it was. I was so stupid. I should've known. I should've been able to see through his lie. I should've guessed. But I was _stupid _and now so many people are _dead." _

A quiet sigh reached his ears. "You were just following orders."

He finally turned back to look at her with another scowl. "Don't start. I don't want to hear it. Tseng already fed me that crap."

Elena didn't back down in the face of his anger and pain. "It's true, though."

"I don't _care! _It's still my fault. I entered the code."

"And Shinra ordered you to!"

"And I obeyed. Like a stupid _dog!" _

Elena sighed again and shook her head wearily. "This could go on forever," she said sadly.

Reno suddenly realized how _tired _he was. And how much he hurt. All he wanted to do was sleep and escape. Forget about all this, if just for a little while.

"Yeah," he agreed, letting his anger slide away. "Let's stop. Too tired."

She stared at him for a moment, indecision on her face, as though she wanted to say more but wasn't sure if she should. He arched an eyebrow at her, mimicking her expression from earlier. "What?"

She frowned, opened her mouth then shut it again with a brief shake of her head. "Nothing."

He knew she was lying. "You can tell me," he pressed, wondering if this had something to do with the distant conversation he'd heard. One of the voices had sounded like hers.

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Some other time. You need to sleep."

He thought about arguing but realized she was right. Sleep was tugging insistently at him, urging him back into welcoming, numbing darkness.

"I … guess," he managed to breathe out before it surrounded him, taking him away.

* * *

Elena closed the door to Reno's room with a soft 'click', pausing to listen to the sound of his even breathing and erase his pained eyes from her mind. He was worse than she'd first thought—packed so full of anger, guilt, and heartache it was a miracle he didn't shatter completely.

_Or maybe he already has._

She locked the thought away, unwilling to dwell on it. Reno was going to pull through. He was going to be okay, like always.

Tseng was standing in the hall, watching her with assessing eyes. She composed herself and stepped away from the door toward her boss, reminding herself to keep her raging irritation in check. This wasn't entirely Tseng's fault either, though it would be so easy to blame him.

"How is he?" Tseng asked hesitantly, trying to keep a neutral look on his face, but guilt burned bright in his eyes.

"Awful," Elena said flatly. "He blames himself."

Tseng frowned. "It wasn't his fault."

Elena couldn't stop herself from glaring. "So? This is Reno we're talking about. He's only human. He saw everything firsthand, heard the screams of the dying, and it's killing him. Because only a monster can watch something like that not and not be affected. And even though he might claim otherwise, Reno is no monster."

Tseng sighed. "We're Turks, Elena. It's our job to follow orders."

"I know!" She snapped then forced herself to calm down. "Sorry, sir."

He waved off her apology. "You want to say more, Elena?"

"Some orders are not meant to be followed. The price is too high." She kept her voice under tight control, but Tseng still detected the traces of anger hidden beneath the calm surface.

He had no response to her biting words so instead he drew himself up, hiding behind the impassive mask of the leader of the Turks. "You will be taking over Reno's responsibilities while he is on medical leave. Cissnei will guard Rufus for you. Understood?"

She, too, retreated behind her walls and nodded calmly. "Yes, sir."

"Good," he replied stiffly and strode away, leaving her alone in the hallway. She sighed and glanced out the window at the twisted, smoking wreckage below. Sector 7 was gone. All that was left was ashes … ashes and dust.

And she had to wonder if they would ever recover.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a daring rescue attempt, an elaborate lie, and a talking animal.


	16. XV: Into the Lion's Den

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Gah, this is late too. I planned to have this out a few days ago. (sigh) But strangely, my life has actually been busy lately. How bout that. **

**This is the great rescue chapter! More action, heh. Oh, and for accuracy's sake, I'll say now that I deliberately changed the conversations about the Ancients that happen in the game. That will have significance later on. Hee. Oh, and I don't know how many of you picked up on it, but in the last chapter, the conversation Reno overhears will be important. Just thought I'd help you all out a bit. That's all I'm saying for now, though. :D **

**Read on, and review! I command you! Heh, just kidding. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, though. Reviews always help me improve, be they positive or negative. Plus I'm incredibly addicted to them. XD **

* * *

A darkened, cloud-filled sky, ready to pour rain onto the earth and flickering with brief flares of lightning, had never been more beautiful. Looking up at the endless expanse, Zack felt the ache in his muscles recede and the storm in his heart lull for a glorious moment as light blue eyes hungrily scanned the sky, glossing over the detail and shapes of the clouds and lingering on the patches of clear velvet black, scattered with barely-visible stars. He hadn't seen the sky in months, though it felt like a lifetime—everything had changed so drastically in such a short period of time. He had forgotten about the sky, forgotten the way it stretched on forever and how much sheer power it stored in its clouds, making him feel as tiny as an ant, left almost breathless in wonder.

Beside him, the others also turned their heads upwards, seeking brief solace in the roiling clouds above them.

"It's been a long time since I seen this," Barrett murmured almost reverently.

"Yeah," Tifa agreed in a hushed whisper. Another flash of lightning lit up the clouds for an instant before vanishing as swiftly as it had come. "I wonder if it's going to rain."

They all knew the answer. As often as it flashed its lighting, let loose its thunder, or built up its clouds, the sky almost never dropped rain on the barren land around Midgar or the city itself. It probably didn't see the point of trying to nourish something that had died long ago or wasting its precious water on a thing as insignificant as dust. But there were exceptions. Zack remembered the cold touch of the rain on the cliffs just outside the city, soothing the burning fire of his wounds and the bleeding ache in his heart.

Yes, it had been raining the day he almost died.

He glanced briefly at Cloud and couldn't ignore the haunted look in his friend's eyes. Cloud was thinking the same thing. He shuffled closer to the blond and clasped his shoulder tightly, dragging him back into the present, reminding Cloud that he was here, alive and breathing, and that wasn't about to change. Cloud didn't smile but his eyes said he understood.

The painful memories brought the storm back and not even the mighty sky could soothe it. His eyes were drawn to the building that rose above the rest of Midgar like a god, brushing the sky and defying its claim on the heavens. But this thing was dark and terrible and made the storm within him rise into a fiery, howling hurricane. Those cold, beautiful walls hid the evil within well, but he'd had his eyes wrenched painfully open to everything Shinra was and there was no turning back. He hated the mere sight of Headquarters now when once upon a time walking its halls had filled him with pride and a sense of purpose.

Oh, how things changed.

And the knowledge that _Aerith _was trapped in the cold clutches of Shinra scared him so badly just thinking of it nearly made his heart stop beating and his lungs stop breathing. He _had _to save her. Losing her now would shatter him into a thousand pieces; rip a hole open in his chest so large it would never mend.

"Ready?" He asked, brushing away lingering thoughts of the pain still throbbing deep in his heart and turning to the group of rescuers behind him.

They looked tired—even Cloud, who Zack was learning had a frightening amount of stamina—and still haunted, but unshakeable resolve glimmered in every pair of eyes. They weren't going to give up, though they were exhausted and heartsick and had just spent hours climbing over nearly endless piles of wreckage, preparing to take on the greatest power in the world.

"We're ready," Tifa said and nothing but the truth burned bright in her gaze.

Zack tried to smile, but it just wouldn't come so he settled for a brief nod and tried to pour as much gratefulness as possible into his eyes. He wasn't sure if Tifa got the message—she turned away too quickly for him to discern her expression—but there simply wasn't time to dwell on it. He could thank her, Barrett, and Cloud properly later when Aerith was safe and they were far away from all things Shinra.

Presuming they survived this, that is.

He clamped down hard on that thought, locked it behind a door of iron and steel, and threw away the key. There was no room for failure. That principle, at least, he'd kept from his SOLDIER days. Though, goodness knows, he had failed plenty of times in his life.

"Let's go," he said, wrenching his mind from those painful failures—one of which was standing right next to him, eyeing him with a far too observant gaze.

The others followed without complaint, even Barrett. For this mission, Zack was the leader, knowing the Shinra Building far better than any of them.

Soon, they were crouched in the shadows near the massive entrance, staring somewhat nervously at the towering building that seemed to stretch on forever upward, disappearing into the clouds.

"All right," Zack began in a quiet, but commanding whisper. He'd slipped into SOLDIER mode unconsciously, placing a mask over his face to hide the still churning storm within him. "There's a side entrance we're going to use to get up to the floor 59. There's an equipment room there that we can _borrow _some stuff from. Then we'll work our way upward, Aerith is probably on the higher levels."

"This entrance got an elevator?" Barrett asked in a strange voice stuck somewhere between hope and doubt.

Zack frowned at him, but shook his head. Barrett scowled and cursed under his breath, earning a hard smack on the arm from Tifa that successfully silenced his grumbling. She paid him no more attention as she nodded at Zack, waiting for the signal to go. Zack pointed to a small door hidden in the shadows next to the main entrance and motioned for them to move. They darted as silently as possible across the open space, only releasing the oxygen trapped in their lungs when they were safe beneath the protective cover of darkness once more.

Zack picked the lock on the door with relative ease—glad he'd forced Reno to show him how to do it back in their Shinra days. Once everyone was crowded inside at the base of the stairwell, he closed and locked it behind them, trying to leave as little evidence of their presence as possible.

The stairs rose above them, winding upward until they were lost in the shadows. Zack stared at them with far more calm than Barrett or Tifa, who both looked slightly panicked. He'd tackled much worse as a SOLDIER.

Stairs were nothing.

* * *

On floor fifty he was regretting his boastful thoughts. His legs burned and felt like jelly, shaking almost constantly, and he couldn't seem to draw enough air into his lungs, or keep it there long enough for it to be of any use. It just kept escaping his lips in deep, heaving pants. His harsh breathing echoed loudly in his ears, accompanied by the continuous clanging of boots against the hollow metal of the stairs.

Barrett and Tifa had disappeared a long time ago, falling far behind. The only proof they hadn't dropped dead from exhaustion was the occasional curse or reprimand that would drift up from about three or four floors down, echoing off the metal walls. Remarkably, Cloud was ahead of him by about a floor. Something told Zack his friend could draw even further ahead if he chose to, but Cloud would always stop and wait for him to catch up every other flight, checking to make sure he was all right before continuing on at a measured pace.

Zack was a little amazed at Cloud's stamina. The blond was barely even breathing hard. This was another new development that eerily reminded him of Sephiroth … again. Genesis, long ago, had mentioned Cloud being similar to Sephiroth. Zack couldn't remember the exact words, having been far too distracted by the twisted evil evident on the once SOLDIER's face and the fact that his best and only friend was in danger, but the general notion was enough to terrify him beyond all reason. When he thought of Sephiroth all he could see was fire and green, green eyes wild and dark with the deepest madness he'd ever known, accompanied by cold steel slicing his flesh like butter. He shivered and violently pushed the memories away, repressing them for the umpteenth time. Sephiroth was a subject and a memory he avoided like the plague—even the depths of his own mind held no place for the fallen General.

It simply hurt too much.

"Are we there yet?" Barrett's voice asked for the hundredth time, a bit weaker and raspier than when he'd last voiced the question and providing Zack with the distraction he desperately needed.

"No!" Tifa snapped, sounding breathless. "Stop asking!"

Zack chuckled in spite of their situation, feeling his dark thoughts recede, and glanced up to check Cloud's status. Sure enough, the blond was waiting patiently a floor up, not looking winded at all. Zack shook his head in wonder and pushed himself harder, angry at his weakness. He should have been able accomplish this without any trouble. SOLDIER 1st Class and he was conquered by a measly staircase—Angeal would have been less than pleased. He could just picture his stern mentor throwing him in the simulation room for a few hours to cure him of his weakness.

The image brought about a combination of affection and bitter heartache, the way memories of Angeal always did, but it didn't hurt now quite as much as it once had. For that he was immensely thankful. Maybe one day, thinking of Sephiroth wouldn't sear him so deeply either.

"Zack? How many more floors?" Cloud asked once Zack had reached him.

Zack bent over, trying to suck more precious oxygen into his aching lungs and failing horribly. "Only … a few," he wheezed.

Cloud nodded solemnly and continued his climb, seeming a little baffled over why Zack was breathing so hard and the fact that he hadn't seen Tifa or Barrett in quite a while.

Zack collected himself and followed, tying to suppress a groan and wondering why he hadn't opted to just fight his way through the front.

It would have been easier.

* * *

Nine floors felt like a hundred and the small door at the top of the final staircase was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in a while, even rivaling the sky. He sagged against the railing, gripping it with shaky hands and waiting for his muscles to turn solid again and allow him to open the door.

"Hate … stairs," he muttered once he had enough oxygen for speech

Cloud sat a step down from him, leaning his head against the railing and breathing only slightly faster than normal. Zack once again inwardly gaped with astonishment. Cloud was becoming more of a mystery with each passing day.

It took five long minutes for Barrett and Tifa to catch up and they both collapsed against the staircase—Barrett nearly crushing Cloud as his legs gave out, forcing the startled blond to scramble frantically out of the way.

"Th-that s-sure takes … a-a lot ou-out … o-of y-y-you," Tifa managed to gasp out as she gripped her shaky knees with unsteady hands.

Barrett nodded weakly. "N-never wa-wanna s-see … st-stairs a-again. N-never."

Zack's aching muscles and blazing lungs screamed the agreement he couldn't find the strength to voice. Only the thought of Aerith, frightened and alone, helped him lift his tired arm from the railing and enter in the code for the door, hoping it hadn't changed and he wouldn't have to pick it. He didn't think he'd be able to get back up if he had to kneel … or even bend over. Thankfully, the door popped open with a faint hiss.

He peered through the crack and sighed in relief at the sight of only three guards near the elevators. Luck was definitely on their side tonight. He turned back to the small gathering on the stairs and waved his arm to get their attention, cutting off Barrett and Tifa's interrogation of Cloud over why he was barely breaking a sweat.

"There's only three guards," Zack informed them once they'd crowded behind him. "Move fast, though. We don't want to be picked up by too many cameras if possible. Just follow me."

The three nodded as Zack took a deep breath and wrenched the door open wide, crossing the room diagonally at a fast run. The guards barely had time to blink before they were on the ground in a heap, weapons clattering nosily as they fell from limp hands. The others blinked in amazement at Zack from halfway across the room—as far as they'd managed to get.

"Man, SOLDIERs ain't human," Barrett muttered, shaking his head.

Zack rolled his eyes and pointed at door to their left. "In there! Hurry."

They scrambled to the door and Tifa tugged on the handle. The door shuddered but refused to open. "Locked!" Tifa barked, glancing over her shoulder at Zack, who was dragging the three unconscious guards toward a small broom closet.

"Can you pick it?" Zack asked as he tried to stuff the guards and their weapons into the tiny space.

Tifa was on her knees in front of the door, using one of the pins from her hair, before he could finish his question. He smiled ruefully, wondering why he had even bothered to ask. Tifa could knock out men Barrett's size with her fists so of course she could do something like picking locks.

He shut and locked the broom closet, sealing the guards inside, and crossed the room just as Tifa pulled open the door with a satisfied smirk, ushering Barrett and Cloud inside. Zack pushed her through and tumbled in after her, closing the door quickly. The room was small and cramped, forcing Zack to do some fancy maneuvering to reach the other side where the uniform racks were. A pleased smile ghosted across his face at the sight of 2nd Class SOLDIER uniforms hanging against the wall, complete with armor and helmets—how fortunate that Shinra still kept spares up here after five years.

"Cloud," Zack beckoned the blond over and handed him a 2nd Class uniform, "put that on. It's the only way we'll be able to explain our swords and it should hide your hair nicely."

The others turned away to give Cloud some privacy while he changed, stuffing his old clothes—newly mended by Elmyra—into the bag Zack provided. Zack continued to peruse the racks, pulling out a grunt uniform for Tifa—"I hope this is loose enough to pass you off as a man"—and a janitor's coverall for Barrett—"Stop complaining. It's the only thing that will fit you. Uniforms are _not_ made for someone your size."

Zack began to struggle his way into a 2nd Class uniform after everyone had their proper garments, battling with the shoulder pauldrons that refused to stay on straight and the buckle that just wouldn't close. His frustration built to a boiling point rapidly and he gripped the buckle tightly—fully ready to tear it off and fling it across the room—but his destructive revenge was prevented by a startled almost horrified gasp from the only female member in their group. He glanced up hurriedly, trying to understand what could have provoked such a girlish action from tomboyish Tifa, and his heart plummeted into his stomach when he saw her standing next to a very uncomfortable, nervous Cloud, holding his arm and examining the dark tattoo staining his skin.

"What's this?" she asked, brushing her fingers over the Roman numeral eight and the strange symbol that stood out drastically against his pale skin.

Cloud flinched and pulled his arm away forcefully, covering the mark up with his hand. "Nothing," he mumbled, staring at the floor while Zack glared at the ceiling, one hand a trembling fist at his side. He'd been hoping to avoid something like this.

Tifa didn't push, there was no time, but glanced at Zack with a slightly frustrated frown. "We'll have to cover it."

Zack nodded—thankful that Tifa wasn't a nosy person—and dug out a first aid kit. "Bandages should do. We can say it was a training accident."

"Do you have a knife?" Cloud asked.

Zack glanced up in surprise. "What?"

"You'll have to cut me. To make it look real," Cloud elaborated, completely calm.

Zack's eyes widened, then narrowed as his jaw clenched in anger. "No. I'm not hurting you."

"I won't feel it," Cloud pointed out, refusing to give an inch on the matter.

Zack straightened, fingernails etching crescent shapes into his gloves and eyes blazing with barely suppressed anger. "_No," _he growled adamantly, unable to even understand why Cloud would ask such a thing of him. The thought of cutting Cloud, causing his friend harm even if he couldn't feel it, made him sick.

Cloud remained calm in the face of his rage. "It's the only way. We don't want anyone to question us. I won't feel it, Zack."

Zack wanted to scream at him that whether he felt or not didn't _matter _and was hardly the issue. He couldn't see Cloud bleed again, couldn't inflict any kind of wound on him, because he knew such an act would be the catalyst to break the mental dam he'd erected, letting the river of horrible memories flow through his mind. But, as much as he hated to admit it, Cloud was right.

"Jus' do it!" Barrett hissed, fed up with Zack's hesitation. "Or if you're too chicken, get me a knife an' I'll do it myself. Spiky won't feel it anyway!"

Zack shot him an angry glare, but swiftly reached a decision. He was not allowing Barrett, who barely knew the meaning of the word gentle, anywhere _near _his best friend with a knife. He could never ask Tifa to cut Cloud either. So, one solution...

With a scowl of displeasure, Zack pulled a knife from the belt of his uniform, reached out, and swiftly cut Cloud's arm just above the tattoo before he could hesitate and second-guess his decision. Cloud didn't flinch, though blood welled up in the cut and flowed down his arm in a thin river of red. Zack's stomache churned as Tifa hurried forward with bandages to cover the superficial wound. Looking down, Zack realized the hand holding the now bloody knife was shaking uncontrollably. He dropped the knife on reflex, feeling it burn his skin, and kicked it away contemptuously, satisfied when it skidded into a dark corner and was swallowed up by the shadows.

By the time he was done collecting himself, Cloud's wound was bandaged and everyone was ready to go. Deciding they'd already wasted far too much time in the small room, Zack herded them out the door and to the elevators, which was another tight squeeze. Tifa gulped, staring at the city far below them through the glass wall—her face turning a sickly white as her lips pressed together in a thin line. Zack offered her a sympathetic smile as he pressed the button for the 61st floor and futilely tried to ignore the smoke still rising from the twisted wreckage of Sector 7. A fear of heights was a terrible thing to have.

The elevator reached its destination and opened with a quiet hiss. Zack stepped out, trying to appear casual and incredibly thankful one of the guards he'd knocked out had a keycard on him. It was also a relief to see a few 2nd Class SOLDIERs milling about in the lounge. He'd thought the program extinct with the defection of so many of the Firsts, but apparently Shinra wasn't quite ready to let it go. A part of him felt sad over this, wanting to warn the two young men he saw of the dangers waiting for them in this place—the dreams they would lose, the lives they would ruin, maybe even their own—but he was too tired to care about SOLDIER and Shinra anymore. His only concern now was Aerith.

"What now?" Tifa whispered into his ear.

He adjusted his helmet and eyed one of the two 2nd Classes in the room. If the company remained the same, they would both have clearance to level 66 and key cards on them, which would be easy to steal.

"Wait here," he told her and crossed the room at an even pace, hands swinging idly at his sides, shoulders slumped, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

Once he reached the closest SOLDIER he sped up a bit and slammed into the man, making him stumble to one side, waving his arms comically to maintain his balance. He righted himself quickly and glared darkly at Zack, looking ready to pull out his sword and begin a duel right in the middle of the lounge.

"Oops!" Zack cried. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there. I'm really, really sorry! My instructor always says I'm a klutz. Well, 'hopeless' is more how he puts it but…"

"Whatever," the SOLDIER snapped and hurried away—jaw and shoulders still tight in anger.

Zack snickered to himself and ambled back to the group waiting by the elevators, flashing the keycard at them triumphantly.

"How'd you do that?" Barrett asked with a bit of awe.

Zack smirked. "Well, pick pocketing in the slums for nearly a month really helped develop my skills. That guy didn't stand a chance."

"Oh, you're _so_ humble," Tifa grumbled—no doubt rolling her eyes beneath her helmet.

Zack just grinned in response, eliciting another eye roll, and pointed to a door across the room. "Through that door and up those stairs there should be an elevator that will take us to floor 66."

They crossed the room and the guard by the door eyed them suspiciously, surprised at the sight of a grunt, two 2nd Class SOLDIERS, and a janitor walking together. "What are you doing?" he asked once they'd reached him.

Zack stepped forward. "Well, you see, it's like this. Me and Kunsel here," he ignored the prick of pain that accompanied his old friend's name and waved at Cloud, "were sparring and kind of managed to destroy a lot of valuable property. Actually, it was more like a whole room. Materia gone bad, you know. Well, anyway, our instructor was really, really, really mad and told us that as a punishment we had to escort this dumb janitor around all day. It's his first day on the job and he gets lost _all _the time. Five times just in the past three hours! Sheesh. Anyway, the grunt, he's along for the ride too, you see, because he accidentally shot a fellow soldier. I don't see what the problem was since it was just a flesh wound, but apparently…"

"Enough!" The guard yelled, exasperated with Zack's incessant rambling. "Just show me your key card and get moving!"

"Of course, sorry. I know I talk too much. It's a real problem I've really been trying to fix. My instructor always says…"

"Your key card!" The guard practically screamed.

Zack frowned, but produced the card. "Wow, you're impatient. And here I was just trying to make pleasant conversation…"

"Just go," the guard cut in, shoving the card back into Zack's hand. "_Please." _

Zack nodded. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "Rude guard."

The others followed him up the stairs, all trying not the laugh (except Barrett who was a extremely miffed at the "dumb janitor" comment.).

"And Aerith said I suck at undercover missions," Zack gloated as he entered the elevator.

"That was pretty good," Tifa admitted, looking anywhere but outside.

"The dumb comment was unnecessary," Barrett grumbled.

"Who was Kunsel?" Zack sighed. Leave it to Cloud to come up with the most observant, albeit painful question.

"A friend," he murmured, euphoria over tricking the guard rapidly dissipating. "A good friend."

Cloud picked up on the pain in his voice and didn't question further. The elevator ride was silent and a little strained as the mission weighed more heavily on them the closer they got to the upper levels and the very heart of Shinra that dripped with evil.

Zack was far more cautious when the doors opened onto floor 66. Here, if he remembered correctly, was where the conference room was located. In fact, its huge door was right in front of him and from behind it he could hear the hushed murmur of multiple voices. A meeting was in progress and it was no doubt an important one, in light of recent events.

"I think we should hear this," Zack whispered to his companions. "Follow me."

He could vaguely recall an entrance to the air ducts from a small bathroom near the far end of the floor. He located the bathroom and slipped inside, trying his best to ignore the smell and smiling slightly at the sight of the vent, in the same spot Reno had showed him once, years ago when he was still a 2nd and they were friends in spite of the tension between SOLDIER and the Turks.

_"Yeah, this goes straight to the conference room. We practice our stealth listening in on the big wigs. Not that Tseng knows that," Reno snickered, a wry smirk on his face. "Me and Elena have listened in on some interesting conversations. Heh. We can never get Rude to come along. He's too much of a stick in the mud." A snort. "Besides, the duct only really fits two people so it doesn't matter." _

Zack's smile widened at the fond memory as he climbed up onto the toilet and pushed the grate away, opening the vent.

Tifa, Barrett, and Cloud squeezed into the stall and looked up at him dubiously. "So this why you led us into a bathroom," Tifa remarked. "I was beginning to wonder."

"This goes to the conference room," Zack explained, pulling himself up into the duct. He reached back and gestured for Tifa to step up onto the toilet. "Only two will fit, though. So Cloud and Barrett, do you mind staying here?"

Cloud frowned but didn't protest. "No."

Barrett snorted. "I ain't gonna fit up there even if ya wanted me to come. I'll jus' wait here. But don't take too long."

"Sure thing, boss," Zack muttered, pulling Tifa up into the vent.

"How do you know about this?" she asked, crawling close behind him.

"Long story," he replied as they rounded a bend and approached another grate. "Shh."

Tifa quieted immediately and they laid on their stomachs, heads knocking together as they struggled to peer through the grate into the conference room below.

"Look at all those suits," Tifa whispered.

"Yeah. All the higher ups are here," Zack murmured with a frown.

A man with a dark brown beard and long hair of the same shade was speaking. His face was lined with weariness and his voice full of barely concealed pain. "We have the damage estimates from Sector 7."

Tifa and Zack both inhaled sharply and leaned in closer, straining to hear.

"Considering those factories we already set up and all the investments the damage is estimated at approximately 10 billion gil." He rattled off the facts in a monotone, face a mask of indifference.

Tifa and Zack looked at each with wide eyes. "10 billion gil?" Tifa mouthed in amazement. Zach shook his head, feeling just as awed, though he knew the damage extended much further than lost profits, beyond anything that could be summed up with numbers or facts on a sheet. And for some reason, he knew the man who had spoken understood that as well. Zack wished he could remember the guy's name.

He was continuing on in a dead voice, punching buttons on a device in his hands. "The estimated cost to rebuild Sector 7 is…"

"We're not rebuilding," the President cut him off.

The man's had jerked up in shock and for a moment all he could do was stare. It was the man next to him, in a distinct white suit, who spoke. "What?" he hissed it out, more angry than stunned, hands clenching the arms of his chair so tightly the leather of his fingerless gloves creaked from the strain.

"Vice president Rufus," Zack whispered in surprise. Rufus was the heir to the company and known to be ruthless, but he looked outraged at the thought of not rebuilding.

_Why? _

The President remained unruffled at his son's outburst. "We're leaving Sector 7 as it is." He paused, smirking at the shell-shocked dark-haired man and the frustrated vice president. "And restarting the Neo-Midgar plan, as well the excavation on Wutai."

The dark-haired man—Reeve, Zack remembered, though he knew little else about him—recovered enough to speak. "… the Ancients?"

"We'll unlock their secrets soon. They can't keep them from us forever," the President responded with a dark gleam in his blue eyes that whispered of insatiable greed. "I want you to raise the Mako rates fifteen percent in every area."

Reeve paled, but a man in a tan suit with comical tufts of gray hair on the sides of his head nearly jumped from his seat in excitement. "A rate hike, excellent! Does this mean you'll include our Space Program in the budget?"

The President gazed at him with cool disinterest. "Reeve and Scarlet will divide the extra income from the rate increase."

The man slumped in his seat while a woman with blonde hair robed in glittering red smirked with satisfaction. "Excellent, there's a few new projects I'm dying to get started on." She practically purred the words, ignoring Tan Suit's infuriated scowl.

Reeve looked far less enthusiastic. "Sir, if you raise the rates the people will lose confidence…"

"It'll be alright," Shinra said, waving his hand in causal dismissal. "The ignorant citizens won't lose confidence, they'll trust Shinra Inc. even more."

Reeve and Rufus exchanged a brief glance, something Zack couldn't define passing between them, but it definitely caught his interest. Something was up with those two. He just couldn't figure out what.

A man in green who Zack recognized instantly laughed uproariously. The ex-SOLDIER bit back a snarl of disgust. He disliked Heidegger almost as much as the President himself, if not more. "After all, we're the ones who saved Sector 7 from AVALANCE!"

Tifa stifled a gasp of surprise and fury. "What?!" she hissed as she tried dig her nails into the metal vent, looking ready to pry open the grate and beat up Heidegger herself. "How _dare _they?!"

Zack closed his eyes, fighting off his own rage and heartache, though he wasn't nearly as surprised as Tifa, being far too used to Shinra's dirty tricks and elaborate lies.

The door hissed open suddenly and a man in white lab coat with greasy hair and a hunched posture shuffled into the room, eyes darting from face to face behind his spectacles. Zack's teeth sunk into his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he fought back the scream that built in his throat. Images assaulted him—dark labs, swirling mako, a cold metal table, screams, Cloud's horrified eyes, a face twisted by evil smiling at his pain, and a laugh, rising above everything and imprinting itself so deeply into his mind it haunted him every hour, waking or sleeping. He still heard that laugh in his darkest nightmares. Now, it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from ripping open the grate and gutting Hojo where he stood. Death could never pay for the man's crimes, or buy back the lives he had plundered and ruined. It was the least he deserved but Zack would gladly settle for it and end the twisted scientist's life in an instant.

Tifa noticed his distress and placed a hand on his arm hesitantly. "Zack?"

He sucked in a shuddering breath and dredged up a half-hearted smile. "I'm fine."

She didn't believe him in the slightest but he was saved from further interrogation by the voices below.

"Hojo," the President greeted the scientist in a clipped tone, "how's the girl?"

Zack felt sick. His worst nightmare was unfolding before him. _Hojo _had Aerith in his clutches. He'd suspected this would be the case, but previous suspicions did nothing to soften the blow of hearing his deepest fears confirmed.

_No! This can't be happening. This can't … __**Aerith**__ … oh, Aerith … this … this __**can't**__ … __**No…**_

Hojo's nasal voice grated on his ears like nails on a chalkboard and the cold words he spoke about the woman Zack loved made him alternately want to throw up or go on a murderous rampage. "As a specimen, she is inferior to her mother. I'm still in the process of comparing her to her mother, Ifalna, but for now the difference is eighteen percent."

"How will that affect our goals?"

"It will take longer to complete the research and the overall process of drawing samples, but it will not damage anything in the long run." He paused thoughtfully. "Perhaps it will set things back for a few months. That is all." He shrugged—a gesture that looked odd with his hunched shoulders.

Zack pressed his cheek to the cool metal grate, feeling bile rising in his throat and his blood pumping hot in his veins. _Don't kill anyone … don't throw up … don't kill anyone … don't throw up…_

The President sighed. "I suppose that is unavoidable. What about information on the secrets of the Ancients? Does she know anything?"

Hojo frowned. "We found a book amidst her belongings. It looks to be in a different language. Her mother possessed it before her. Whether she can translate it or not remains to be seen."

Zack couldn't listen anymore. He had to get Aerith … _now. _Before anything else horrible happened to her.

"C'mon," he muttered, grabbing Tifa and hauling her away from the grate, ignoring the voices that continued on below. He had to get to the labs before Hojo. If the man saw them it would produce disastrous results.

And he could _not _let Cloud see the scientist at any cost. He didn't want to think about what _that _would do to his friend's already fragile mental health.

He nearly landed on top of Barrett he shot from the vent so fast. The large man barely had time to jump out of the way. "What's your problem?!" He yelled but stopped upon seeing the angry fire raging in Zack's eyes and Tifa's subdued posture. The murderous cloud surrounding Zack was enough to silence the rebel leader.

"We're going to save Aerith," he said in a tight voice that left no room for argument. "I know where she is. Stick close. We have to hurry."

With that he roughly brushed past Barrett and strode out the door, letting it bang closed in his wake. A wide-eyed Cloud scrambled after him, but Barrett hung back, glancing at Tifa with arched eyebrows. "What did you hear up there?"

Tifa sighed. "I'll explain later. But none of it was good."

Barrett snorted contemptuously. "I figured that much."

Tifa didn't reply, but left the bathroom at run, following the path Zack and Cloud had taken. By the time Barrett found them again, Zack had knocked out a secretary and was inserting a key card with the number 67 on it into the module in the elevator. Barrett was forced to jump into the lift before the door closed on him. Once inside, he stared at Zack with widened eyes; the ex-SOLDIER was moving faster and with more intensity than the rebel had ever seen, so focused he barely noticed his companions and the nervous glances they shot him.

Only one thing mattered now—getting to Aerith before Hojo could harm her further.

Anger and guilt clashed angrily within him as the doors opened. He stepped out and glared at the doorway leading into the labs with dark hate, for Shinra and himself. This was all his fault. If only he had told Aerith to remain with him, if only he'd made it to the helicopter in time to pull her from it, if only he hadn't waited a day to save her.

If only, if only, if only … it beat like a drum within him, drowning out everything but his failures.

_If only, if only, if only… _

"Cloud!" Zack barked, pulling the helmet from his head and glancing back at his friend. "Stay here. Guard the elevator and knock out anyone who comes through." He couldn't let Cloud into those labs. His reaction to them would be violent, probably, and slow them down. He knew that manipulating his friend and keeping his memories from him like this was probably wrong, but shoved the guilt aside. He didn't have time to care now.

Cloud nodded a little fearfully, adjusting his visor and settling into position beside the lift, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Zack started forward. "Barrett, Tifa, come with me. We're getting Aerith out of here."

He didn't bother picking the lock on the door, but cut through it with two powerful slashes from his sword. Ignoring, Tifa and Barrett's stunned stares, he jumped through the twisted opening and knocked out two scientists before they could sound an alarm. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, narrowing the world to one single thing: find Aerith. It drove him forward like a madman as he charged through rooms and incapacitated anyone in his way, one objective pounding in his head over and over.

_Find Aerith, find Aerith, find Aerith…_

At last, he stumbled upon a sealed room in the back of the lab. He slashed through it and tore inside, heart leaping up into his throat at the sight of Aerith curled up against the back wall of a large glass container, very similar to the tube that held him captive for four long years.

She looked up when he crashed through the door and for a moment he recoiled at the dead, lifeless look in her beautiful green orbs. He'd seen that look on the face of his best friend and never wanted to find it on anyone's face again. Now, seeing it in Aerith's eyes nearly killed him. But it was only fleeting and vanished the instant she saw him.

She jumped to her feet and pressed her palms against the glass, mouthing his name frantically. He hurried forward and motioned for her to get down and cover her head. There simply wasn't time to fiddle with the lock on the tank so, after she had obeyed his order, he smashed the glass with one well-placed swing, managing to keep her from getting any injuries except a few tiny cuts on her arms.

He stepped into the ruined tank and pulled her into his arms, hugging her fiercely. "Aerith, are you all right?"

She nodded into his sweater. "Yeah. He didn't do anything but run a few tests."

"Good," Zack muttered, nearly crushing her he held on so tight.

"I was afraid you'd died when the plate fell," Aerith admitted, looking up at him with relieved eyes.

He smiled at her. "Nope. We're all okay. I'm so sorry I didn't come earlier… I…"

"Oh, stop apologizing!" Aerith reprimanded, an echo of her mother.

Zack smiled ruefully at the similarities but then remembered their tight time limit. "We have to get out of here. Hojo'll be back any minute."

"Wait!" She cried as he began to pull her from the room. He shot her an exasperated glance over his shoulder.

"What?"

"We can't leave without Red," she said firmly.

"Who?" Zack asked with a puzzled frown.

Aerith pointed to a tank in the corner that held what looked like a red lion. The creature was watching them intently with intelligent eyes. Or rather eye, as one had a slash through it, closing it permanently.

"We can't leave him," Aerith stated again, worming out of Zack's grasp and hurrying over to the tank.

Having no choice, Zack sighed and followed. "Fine," he muttered in consent.

Not sure if the animal could understand him, he gestured for it to get down as he lifted his sword, preparing to smash the glass. To his amazement, the creature nodded and hunkered down, covering its face with its paws. Zack repeated his actions from earlier, shattering the tank in one sweep. The creature—Red—got up and jumped lightly over the shards littering the ground.

"Thank you," it said in a deep, regal voice.

Zack nearly fell over from surprise. "Wha—? It talks!"

Aerith smacked his arm. "Zack! Don't be rude!"

Red chuckled. "It's fine. I will talk ask much as you want later, but for now I suggest we leave before the cretin Hojo returns."

Zack quickly got over his shock, though he doubted he'd seen anything stranger than a talking animal, and nodded. "Right. The others are waiting."

He grabbed Aerith's wrist again and ran to the door, dragging her along behind him. As soon as he helped her through the opening and Red was clear, he saw Tifa and Barrett standing over a familiar man in a white lab coat. Hurrying up to them, he stared down in disgust at the prone form of Professor Hojo.

"There you are!" Tifa exclaimed. "We lost you. Hojo came up a different way and I knocked him out."

Zack nodded. "Good." He wanted to kill the man desperately, but there was no time. The scientist had obviously managed to sound some kind of alarm for a device against the far wall flashed angry red, telling them they needed to get moving.

"Let's go," he said, turning toward the ruined door.

Tifa and Barrett nodded at Aerith and gaped at Red but held their questions in, following without a word. Cloud was waiting on the other side, nervously gripping his sword. He stared at Red for a long moment, lips parted in surprise, but jerked his attention back to Zack when the dark-haired man coughed.

"Something's wrong," Cloud murmured.

Zack nodded, "One of the scientists managed to trigger some kind of alarm. We need to get out of here. Fast."

No one argued, pushing themselves to the limit to escape the jaws of the lion.

* * *

They made it all the way to the elevator on floor 66 before they were caught—hardly an impressive distance. When Rude and a brown-haired Turk stepped into the elevator behind them, pointing guns in their faces and calmly asking them to push the up button, Zack had little choice but to comply.

A dark-hair Turk with glasses and a nasty, puckered scar across one side of his face met them at the top of the elevator, helping his comrades confiscate their weapons and bind their hands—seeming completely unfazed by Red—before slipping away, almost ghost-like in his movements.

Zack glared after him for a moment before turning his attention to the bald Turk in front of him. "Rude, long time no see," he remarked casually. "How's Reno?"

Rude frowned, but genuine concern leaked from Zack, prompting the man to reply. "Alive," he said grimly, omitting the 'barely' he knew should follow.

Zack seemed to pick up on what he was leaving out and frowned. Further conversation was impossible when the grand doors to the president's spacious office swung open. Rude and the brown-haired Turk who Zack didn't recognize ushered them inside. The ruler of the world was waiting for them with a satisfied smile on his pudgy face. He stood in front of his desk with his hands clasped behind his back, regarding them with eyes as cold and hard as ice.

"Well, well, well, AVALANCHE, what a pleasant surprise," he chuckled. "I should've suspected you survived. Insects usually do."

Barrett snarled at the insult, glaring at the man balefully. Tifa's eyes were pools of rage and even Aerith and Cloud looked angry while the dignified Red growled low in his throat. Zack struggled to reign in his numerous emotions, wanting nothing more than to strangle the man for everything he'd taken from this planet and every person who lost their lives in Sector 7. For Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth, for Cloud, for Aerith—the list was endless. But he held himself in check, knowing raw anger would only entertain the cold-hearted man. No emotion was best and so he focused on keeping his face a blank mask, eyeing the president with equally cold eyes.

"Well, it doesn't matter. You've marched right into our hands. How utterly convenient. I will see to it that this time you don't get away. You will be publicly executed for your crimes and the many lives you destroyed by dropping the plate." He smiled at them cruelly, looking thoroughly amused by the scowls on their faces and their helplessness.

"How dare you?!" Tifa yelled, while Barrett let loose an impressive stream of expletives.

The president laughed in response and waved his hand at the two Turks. "Lock them up. We'll schedule the date of their execution as soon as possible."

The Turks led them from the room, faces carved from stone as always. Zack went without struggle, knowing it would be pointless. There was little they do at the moment, stuck at the heart of the lion's den. As they were thrown into cells—Cloud and Tifa, Barrett and Red, and Zack and Aerith—Zack pulled Aerith into his arms and tried not to let despair overcome him.

He would think of a way out of this. He had to.

* * *

**Just an extra little note. Kunsel is a real character from Crisis Core, I believe (If not, Before Crisis). He was a 2nd Class SOLDIER and best friends with Zack during his early Shinra days. I'm not entirely sure what happened to him in the game, but in this story he died at some point during Zack's Shinra career. **

**Coming up next--**a helper from the shadows and a great escape.


	17. XVI: Escaping the Noose

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Humbug. That's all I have to say about this chapter. It's given me so much trouble and I'm really nervous about it for a variety of reasons. It's a rather pivotal chapter so for days now doubts and questions have been running around in my head. "Am I revealing too much? Not enough?" Gah. (heads desk)**

**Hopefully this chapter will be satisfactory for everyone, though it's going to drastically change the story. Remember way back in chapter one where in the author's note I warned you that this would be very AU? Well, here is the reason for that warning. The plot will not longer follow events from the game from the this point on, though some things will be similar. **

**Granted, I'm incredibly nervous, but I'll shut up now and let you read. And review, of course. Even if it is to yell at me. :3**

* * *

"AVALANCHE has been captured."

Blue eyes flickered away from the window to the man standing in the doorway of the office, distress written in every line on his face and the way his fingers clenched the doorframe tightly, bending the wood until it creaked faintly in protest. Brushing a few blond strands of hair away from his face, the second man regarded the first with far more calm.

"So I've heard," he murmured, turning back to the window and clasping his hands, clad in fingerless gloves, behind his back. "Heidegger was boasting for hours." Lips twitched up in a faint smile of amusement.

The first man frowned, stepping into the office and closing the door securely behind him. The building was quiet and subdued, most of the offices long empty due to the late hour. Many employees had returned home to their normal lives hours ago, spending time with girlfriends, wives, children, husbands, friends, caught up in trivial pursuits and concerns. The two men remained—for this place was their world, their cause, their dream … and their prison. It would hold them until they broke loose and such freedom was the dream they had chased after for years—bound together by a sense of justice, a deep pain, and a fiery hope for something better. They were friends, comrades-in-arms and trusted each other completely—both creatures of the night. During the day they wore masks—the faces others expected of them—but at night, when eyes no longer watched and ears no longer listened, the façade ceased, the mask cracked and crumbled, and they spoke freely, allowing their souls to breathe for a few precious hours.

"I don't see what's funny," the first man said, though he had long ago learned his comrade possessed a rather unconventional (at times he would even go as far as calling it twisted) sense of humor.

The second man chuckled and turned away from the window again, straightening his white suit jacket. Another quirk about him—he'd worn white for as long as the first man could remember, even when he was just a boy. Though he had never really been a child, just an adult trapped in a boy's skin.

"They have no idea what's coming," the second man explained. His smile morphed into a slight scoff of disgust. "They are far too blinded by power. Especially the Old Man. It's getting worse with each passing day." His blue eyes deepened into navy, saturated with sadness. "So many people dead, and they just shrug their shoulders, not even bothering to rebuild. _Fools_." He spat the final word in a voice filled to the brim with contempt. "They're going to kill us all because of their greed."

One fist smashed down onto the mahogany desk with force, nearly cracking the expensive wood as the calm began to break beneath the weight of so many suppressed emotions. "The price is getting too high. Waiting like this …" he hung his head—blond hair falling into his eyes, hiding the burning orbs from view. "It's killing me." The final admission was a tortured whisper.

The first man sighed and stepped closer hesitantly, not fazed by his companion's outburst. This was the weakness he kept so well hidden from the world and it often slipped out behind closed doors, refusing to be buried completely. Couldn't cry or bleed—perhaps the rumors about his friend were true, but Rufus Shinra was still fully, painfully human and he could feel _hurt_.

"Rufus…" the first man murmured gently—brotherly warmth evident in his voice.

Rufus drew in a ragged breath and glanced up, boiling eyes gradually beginning to calm. "I'm … I'm fine. Sorry, Reeve."

Reeve smiled, shaking his head. "It's fine. I feel the same. At least you didn't lose it in the meeting."

Rufus frowned darkly. "It wasn't easy." He straightened, dragging his hand from the desk and letting it fall limp to his side. "We need to break AVALANCHE out. Unfortunately, we cannot complete our goals without them and the distraction they provide."

Reeve nodded. "Yes."

Rufus rubbed his temple and stared up at the expansive ceiling thoughtfully. "What about that new robot of yours?"

Reeve blinked in surprise, a little taken aback by the suggestion. "Cait Sith?"

Rufus glanced at him, lips quirking upward. "Yes, that ridiculous little cat with the crown … and the cape." He paused, shaking his head as his smile widened slightly. "Honestly, Reeve, what were you thinking?"

Reeve ignored the barb, dismissing it with an indifferent shrug. "I'm sure Cait Sith can handle this. It shouldn't be a problem." He grinned suddenly. "The question is: how far do you want to take this?"

Rufus smirked—elation at the thrill of such a challenge bringing his eyes to life. "Well, how about the cameras in the elevator, the guards on the prisoners' floor and the alarms, and the door to the weapons room on the same floor?"

Reeve's grin didn't falter. "Oh, is that all?"

Rufus chuckled dryly. "You place far too much faith in that little cat of yours."

Reeve's features turned slightly defensive. "Cait Sith is highly capable, I assure you."

The smile slid from Rufus's face and he turned back to the window, serious eyes glinting in the glass. "He'd better be, Reeve. We can't afford mistakes."

Reeve took a step forward and his own pained face appeared in the glass beside Rufus—light and shadow sharpening the expression. "I know."

Rufus lowered his eyes to the twisted ruin of Sector 7. "Good. We move tonight."

Reeve didn't look down, unable to bear the sight. "Tonight," he confirmed and slipped from the office without a backward glance, silent as a shadow.

Rufus was left behind in the darkness and with a long, tired sigh, he pressed his forehead against the cool glass, wishing he could be as confident inside as the external mask he wore.

* * *

Zack sighed softly and let his head bang against the wall behind him in frustration … again. Stuck in a bland gray cell, he had no idea of how much time had passed—months, weeks, days, hours, minutes? It all blurred together in a world of gray and the never-ending beat of the guard's boots on the floor—back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again until Zack wanted to scream, yell, anything to break the ceaseless pattern. Plan after plan ran through his head, but every one came up flawed, half-complete, and with a minimal chance of success. The more time passed the crazier his plans became until at last he was faced with the inescapable truth that there was no way out. He couldn't save anyone … _again. _

The realization sunk its claws deep into his heart and tore at an already aching soul. How many times in his life had he been unable to save someone? Change someone's fate? He could see all the faces as clear as crystal in his memories. First, Angeal with his sad eyes and tired smile as he struggled to lift the sword he'd once wielded with ease and press it into Zack's shaking hand. Second, Sephiroth with his twisted face and pulsing eyes as he strode through Nibelheim burning and destroying everything he'd once sworn to protect. Third, Cloud with empty, glazed eyes and too pale skin as he sat limp in a tank unable to even scream when they tore him apart. Fourth, Genesis with weary, timeworn features as he held a Banora White loosely in his hand and the life slowly drained from him. Fifth, Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie with vacant eyes and bloodstained skin as they died for a lost cause.

So many faces, so many failures. And here he was, failing again.

With a snarl of irritation he slammed his head back into the wall again, far more forcefully than the last time. Aerith raised her head from the cot with a frown caught somewhere between concern and reproach fixed firmly on her beautiful face. "Zack, if you keep doing that you're going to give yourself a concussion."

"I'm fine!" He snapped, punctuating the harsh words with an uncharacteristic scowl.

She flinched slightly, drawing back a few inches, and the gesture hit him like a slap in the face. He'd never spoken to Aerith in such a cold, angry manner before. Now he'd lost his temper and she was afraid of him. Yet another failure. "Sorry," he whispered guiltily, turning his face away from her to another wall. The gray mocked him, but he held his anger in check.

A cot creaked, fabric rustled faintly, and a hand landed on his arm. He refused to turn around, even when she murmured his name. "Zack." She sighed and squeezed his arm. "It's okay, Zack. Let's work together. Maybe we can find a way out of here if we compare plans."

Zack found it both comforting and irritating that Aerith always seemed to know what was bothering him, no matter how deep he buried it. And she was always right. He turned slowly to face her, trying to force a reassuring smile onto his face. It refused to come so he sighed instead. "Okay," he mumbled, dropping his head onto her shoulder and allowing her presence to soothe the storm tearing through his soul. "Do you have any ideas?"

Her fingers ran through his hair, trailing along his scalp, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "We get some sleep."

He lifted his head swiftly, pulling back with a frown of disproval as every ounce of calm he'd managed to attain slipped away like waves returned to the sea. The storm howled again, louder than before. "What? I thought you were supposed to be helping think of a way to escape. Sleeping won't solve anything!"

She remained calm and a patient, as always—Zack couldn't even remember a time he'd seen her truly angry. "We aren't going to get far if we're exhausted and grumpy. I doubt the president will have us executed right away. Probably tomorrow night or the following day. If we refresh our minds we might be able to come up with a better plan."

"Or he decides to kill us tomorrow morning and we've wasted too much time!"

"It's a chance we have to take. We aren't getting anywhere right now."

"I can still come up with something! I'm not sitting passively by and waiting for him to kill me, Aerith."

"Zack…"

Something banged against the wall from the other side, making the two jump in surprise. Tifa's grumpy voice filtered through the walls. "Hey! Some of us _are _trying to sleep!"

Zack's carefully suppressed frustration boiled over—filling his veins with angry fire. "Why? You should be thinking of a way to get out of here! We could use the help!"

He could almost feel Tifa's glare through the wall. "Oh yeah? What good would it do?! I can barely string two thoughts together, let alone come up with an escape plan!"

"Great excuse! Do I have to do everything myself?"

"Zack … Tifa…"

"Cut it out!" Barrett's voice echoed through another wall. "You're both annoyin'!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Barrett?" Zack spat, turning to scowl at Barrett's wall.

"Yeah!" Tifa echoed. "Mind your own business!"

"That's hard to do with you two shoutin'!"

"Well try!"

"Yeah, stay out of this Barrett."

"You ain't gonna boss me around, kid! I'm still the leader here."

"Guys … this isn't helping…"

"Oh yeah? You've sure done a great job."

"Hey! When we get outta here I'm poundin' you to a pulp!"

"I'd like to see you try."

"_You_…."

"Stop it," the new voice was quiet, tired, and tinged with fear, but enough to make them all hold in the rest of their insults, if only from surprise.

Zack turned back to Tifa's wall. "Cloud?"

"Aerith's right, Zack. Please, stop fighting. We need to help each other, right?" Cloud sounded so _tired _… no, not tired, just drained. There was an emptiness in his voice that frightened Zack and the ex-SOLDIER had no idea what to do when faced with it.

A new silky voice that they were still getting used to joined in. "I agree. Fighting will not solve our problems. We should all get some sleep and allow ourselves time to calm down."

Aerith grabbed onto Zack's arm before he could offer a retort. "They're right. Please, Zack."

He turned to her and winced at the hurt he saw hidden in her eyes. "Aerith…" The anger was gone, leaving behind that familiar, burning guilt.

"Sorry, Zack," Tifa's voiced drifted through the wall, pulling his attention away from the flower girl.

"Me too," Zack replied, resting his hot forehead against the cold metal wall.

"Same here," Barrett huffed after a lengthy, awkward pause.

The world lapsed into silence for a few brief minutes as everyone reined in their wild emotions and tried to clear the fog from their tired minds. Barrett's voice—far calmer than before—finally broke the almost eerie stillness. "Why is Shinra after ya, Aerith?"

Zack glanced at Aerith, noting the distress on her face, and hesitantly gathered her into his arms—half-afraid she would push him away, but she merely rested her head against his chest with a long sigh. "It's hard to explain. A lot of reasons. Please, I'd rather not talk about it right now. But … thank you for coming to save me."

"Ya did a lot for my Marlene," Barrett replied gruffly, brushing off her thanks.

"She's a beautiful girl." Aerith smiled—fond memories rising to the surface.

Barrett's voice turned loving. "Yeah. She sure is."

More silence.

"Aerith," Zack finally said to her hair, gathering his courage around him like a blanket. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so mad. I just…"

She put a finger to his lips. "What did I say about apologizing all the time? It's fine. You're human, Zack. Everyone looses it sometimes."

Zack chuckled wryly, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think you're too forgiving."

She didn't smile when she looked up at him. "Everyone deserves to be forgiven."

There were no words to counter that. Instead, Zack tugged Aerith over to the cot, pushing her down onto it gently. "You're right. Let's get some sleep." He slid down the wall next to the cot and rested his head against the metal frame.

"You're sleeping on the floor?" Aerith asked.

"No room up there," he replied, smiling at her.

"Sure there is," she argued, tugging at his arm insistently.

He relented with a contented smile and climbed onto the cot, maneuvering them both into a somewhat comfortable position—her tight against him within the protective circle of his arms while his chin rested on her shoulder.

Aerith sighed happily. "Much better."

He laughed, but felt exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks, dragging him toward oblivion. He fought it for a few moments, but soon his eyelids refused to lift and he drifted into a deep sleep—fears and concerns fading away into the black until there was only Aerith's warmth and peaceful darkness.

* * *

Tifa smiled when she heard Zack and Aerith's quiet breathing—almost drowned out by Barrett's snores—from the other side of the wall. He'd been tired after all, but pushing himself far beyond his limit to keep them safe. Typical Zack—as she was learning—always wanting to save everyone.

She glanced over at Cloud, who sat against the opposite wall staring at the gray ceiling of their gray cell. He looked tired, but kept his eyes open wide, stubbornly refusing to let them close. He seemed more on edge than normal—arms wrapped around his knees as he curled up into a defensive position that made him look far younger than twenty-one.

"Cloud?" she said, sliding off the cot to crouch in front of him. His eyes snapped to her face but he pressed himself back against the wall, trying to put some distance between them. Seeing him so jumpy hurt. He'd been slowly staring to relax in her presence, no longer shying away from her touch, and she was worried she'd done something wrong.

"Are you okay?" she pressed, unwilling to give up.

He frowned. "I'm … fine. The pause was short but she still caught it and it shattered his assurances easily as he fixed his eyes on a large patch of dirt, acquired on the streets, marring his pant leg. Tifa frowned, too. He really was a horrible liar.

"Liar," she accused gently, reaching out a hand to brush his cheek. She kept her touch light, cautious, since he seemed so fragile she was almost certain if she pushed too hard he would break.

Thankfully, he didn't flinch away from her touch—just closed his eyes and sagged in weary defeat. "Sorry."

She moved her hand to his hair, combing a few of the soft blond locks away from his face. "Don't be. It's okay, Cloud. You can tell me what's bothering you."

He remained silent, merely opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at her face. The fact that he didn't seem to trust her enough to bear his heart hurt more than she cared to admit, but she wasn't about to be swayed by a measly defense like the silent treatment. Determined, Tifa dropped her hand to the bloody bandage on his arm and trailed her fingers over the coarse cloth. "Does it have something to do with this?"

His muscles twitched, as though he was stopping himself from pulling away from her. "Yeah."

"Do you know what it is?"

He shook his head, eyes leaking frustration. "No. It's just another thing Zack won't talk to me about." His teeth worried away at his bottom lip, breaking the skin slightly. A few drops of blood broke free and trickled down his chin. "I think … my past is painful. Zack … doesn't want me to get hurt. So he doesn't say anything. But … I want to know. It's … it's who I am. I want to know who I am. But … at the same time … " he paused, wiping the blood from his skin with shaky fingers. "I'm … I'm scared." The words came out choked with emotion, barely discernable, and dug straight into Tifa's heart.

Tifa swallowed thickly, wanting to comfort him but knowing not to interrupt. With all of her willpower, she held herself in check and kept her soothing words locked in her throat, letting him pour out the rest of his aching soul so she could help him stitch it back together.

"What if … what if I'm not who I think I am. What if this tattoo …" he touched the bandage briefly. "… means I'm something horrible. A-a monster. I can't … I can't feel pain. I don't get tired much. I don't think … don't think I can cry anymore. What if that means … I'm not human." He buried his face in his knees, fingers curling in his hair and pulling at it unconsciously in his distress until a few strands tore free under the ruthless grip.

Tifa couldn't remain quiet. "Cloud…" she breathed heavily and tugged his hands free, pulling him to her. He recoiled but she didn't let go. He was fragile, she knew, but already broken and he needed someone to hold him, love him, ease his fears. He always had, but it had taken her far too long to realize it. She'd never helped him in the past so now, to make up for it, she wasn't going to let him go.

"That's stupid," she mumbled to him as she wrapped her arms around him, letting him rest his face against her neck. "So stupid, Cloud. Of course you're human. You bleed; you breathe; you feel emotions, fears, hopes, dreams; you care about others. That all makes you human. You're Cloud Strife, with or without all your memories. Nothing will ever stop you from being Cloud."

"Tifa…" he trailed off, unable to find any words capable of expressing his feelings.

There was more she wanted to say, so much more—"_nothing will ever stop me from loving you"—_but she knew now wasn't the time. So instead, she smiled into his hair and hugged him just a little more, understanding his silence. He'd never been good with words as a child and the years hadn't improved his communication skills—more proof he was still Cloud. "You're not alone, Cloud. We'll get through this … _together_."

Her smile grew when she felt his arms lift and gloved hands rest against her back, returning the embrace. "Thanks, Tifa."

"No problem."

It was another long moment before they pulled away—the aftermath lacking the awkwardness from earlier times—and a few more minutes beyond that before Cloud broke the silence. "You should get some sleep." He pointed at the cot.

Tifa shook her head then rested it against Cloud's shoulder, intertwining her fingers with his. "I'm fine right here."

Cloud was too tired to protest and soon both were asleep on the hard floor, drawing warmth and comfort from each other.

* * *

A sharp hiss woke Zack abruptly from his sleep. His eyes flew open—wide and alert—as the last remnants of sleep disappeared like tendrils of vapor whisked away by the wind. His eyes adjusted to the thick shadows of the windowless cell in the time it took for him to sit upright on the narrow cot, trying his best not to disturb the still sleeping Aerith. When they did, he realized the cell was not as dark as it should have been. Pale silver light frolicked along the walls, ceiling and floor, spilling from an open doorway where a small figure stood. Zack blinked in surprise and his muscles instantly tensed in preparation of an attack while one hand drifted automatically toward the place his sword should have been. But the little shadow didn't attack, simply darted away.

"Hey!" Zack cried, scrambling off the cot and out the door, gripping onto the frame to steady himself while circulation returned to his numb legs. Something red flashed in his peripheral vision and he whipped his head up, catching sight of tiny creature rounding the corner with a piece of red fabric flapping wildly behind it.

Zack stepped out into the hallway and ran the image again and again in his head, wondering if he was insane and hallucinating or merely dreaming. He could have sworn the little figure had been a _cat _… in a _cape_. That definitely took Red XIII's place as the strangest thing he'd ever seen … if he had truly witnessed it. Deciding to test this, Zack pinched himself hard of the arm. Sharp pain told him he was very much awake, therefore he was either having delusions or he had actually seen a cat in a red cape. Unfortunately, the former seemed the most likely possibility.

Zack shook his head in wide-eyed disbelief. He knew all that mako would do something to his head sooner or later, he'd just never imagined it would produce something so … downright bizarre—monsters, demons maybe, but a cat in a cape? "I've lost it," he concluded, rubbing the back of his head and scanning the surrounding area.

The doors to the others' cells were wide open as well and the lone guard lay crumbled against the wall. More delusions? Zack walked toward him slowly—half-expecting the unconscious man to leapt to his feet and spew flame from his mouth or something else horrifying and unnatural. After all, wasn't that what usually happened in hallucinations? The guard didn't move from his prone position and right next to him on the floor was a key card to the elevator, laid out carefully for Zack to find. The ex-SOLDIER gaped stupidly, marveling at the things his brain was producing. Because the idea that this was reality and actually happening was absurd.

There was only way to find out. Spinning on his heel, he ran back to his cell and frantically shook Aerith awake, calling her name almost desperately. He wanted all this to be real; he wasn't ready for insanity yet—maybe in a couple of decades, when he was old and gray, but not now at such a pivotal time. She opened her eyes slowly, peering up at him in groggy confusion. "What is it?" she asked—voice still slurred from sleep.

"Come and see this," Zack said urgently, pulling her off the cot. She stumbled forward, gripping onto Zack for support, and rubbed her eyes, blinking at the door in surprise. "The door's open."

"Yeah." Well, that was a point for reality. "There's more." He dragged her from the cell and pointed at the guard. "He's out cold." He waited with baited breath, hoping she was seeing this too and wouldn't look at him like he was going crazy—which he probably was.

But she gaped much in the same manner he had. "Wha-?"

Zack sighed in faint relief. Good, he wasn't crazy yet. This wasn't all some strange thing his mind had concocted but actual reality, which meant the situation was the bizarre thing, not him. He wasn't sure yet if that should be comforting or not.

"What's going on?" Zack turned to see Cloud standing in the doorway of his cell, regarding them with curious, attentive eyes lacking any traces of sleep. Tifa stumbled up behind him and held onto the opposite side of the door, still sluggish and trying to wake herself up further.

"The guard's knocked out and all the cell doors are open," Zack explained.

"Who could have done this?" Aertith asked as Tifa and Cloud came forward to examine the guard for themselves.

"They even left us a key card." Tifa held up the card, staring at it as though she expected it to dissolve any second, no doubt questioning all of this in the same way Zack had. He didn't blame her in the slightest—all of this was beyond comprehension.

Zack didn't really want to mention that he had seen a cat in a red cape—they would no doubt question his mental competence, or laugh at him outright, or both—so he shook his head, keeping a neutral expression on his face. "No idea."

"It seems someone in Shinra wants to help us." Red XIII ambled toward them—movements and features radiating calm acceptance. Zack was beginning to see that not many things could rock Red's boat—in contrast to Barrett whose boat could be capsized by even a tiny wave.

"But who?" Zack muttered, crossing his arms and staring hard at the guard, wondering if he stared long enough, the unconscious man would sit up and give them the answers they needed. Naturally, the man didn't move a muscle, drawing a scowl from Zack.

"The door to the weapon room's open, too," Cloud said suddenly, pointing to the room at the end of the hall.

Zack shook his head in disbelief for what felt like the hundredth time in the short span of ten minutes. "This just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

Tifa hurried to check the room, disappearing into darkness. Sounds drifted from the shadows as she rooted around the room, then her voice followed, "Everything's here. Even the bags with our normal clothes in them."

Zack whistled. "Man, how bizarre is this?" And that was not including the whole cat incident.

"We shouldn't look the gift horse in the mouth," Aerith pointed out. "We need to get going.

"I agree," Red added, glancing around. "Something tells me we do not have much time."

"Right, right. I'll get Barrett. Tifa, Cloud, you guys go ahead and change." He marched toward Barrett's cell, stifling his laughter at the loud snoring that greeted him. Barrett could more than likely sleep through a tornado … at the very least.

"Barrett," he called, standing over the sleeping man. "Get up!"

In response, Barrett merely rolled away from him and increased the volume of his snoring. Zack's eye twitched. "Fine," he grumbled. "Have it your way." Drawing his leg back, he kicked Barrett in the side, _hard_.

The burly man yelped— the sound surprisingly high-pitched—and clambered to his feet, arm morphing into a gun as he looked around wildly for an offender to shoot. Zack snickered—past the point of restraint. "Heh, you scream like a girl," he chortled, oblivious to Barrett's murderous glare or the gun being raised toward his head.

"You're dead," Barrett growled darkly, fingering the safety on his weapon.

Zack grinned over the triple barrels aimed at different points on his face. "Go ahead and try. I can dodge bullets."

Barrett suddenly realized two very important things—one: Zack was more than likely telling the truth and two: the ex-SOLDIER was in _his _cell. The second one was more important at the moment (though Barrett would love to see Zack try to prove the first) so Barrett lowered his arm and peered at the grinning Zack quizzically. "Wait … how didja get in here?"

Zack blinked at him innocently. "Through the door, how else?"

Barrett's stupefied expression was so priceless Zack would've given ten thousand gil just for a camera. "Wh-what's goin' on?" the big man spluttered—eyes the size of saucers.

Zack shrugged—the perfect picture of nonchalance in spite of the fact his eyes had just recently returned to their normal size. "Beats me. I woke up and the doors were open and the guard knocked out with a key card to the elevator next to him."

Barrett strode past him into the hallway, muttering curses under his breath to convey his surprise and suspicion. Zack trailed behind at a subdued pace, wracking his brain for a motive. Why would someone help them? What could anyone possibly hope to gain? Going against Shinra was like signing your own death warrant, or offering to hang yourself, or jumping off a cliff—stupid and incredibly suicidal. Only people with absolutely nothing left to lose and a high disregard for the value of their own lives would dare such a feat. And Zack couldn't imagine such a person working this closely to Shinra.

"Zack," Tifa's voice wrenched him from his scattered thoughts and he realized that he had reached the small group and was staring hard at a wall with a no doubt intense expression on his. Maybe he was insane.

Pulling himself back from the depths of his mind, the ex-SOLDIER turned his head in the direction of the voice. Tifa and Cloud stood side by side a few feet away—dressed in their old clothes and equipped with everything they would need for a high-level breakout. "Yeah?"

Tifa held out a bundle of clothes. "You should change."

Zack suddenly remembered he was still dressed in the 2nd Class uniform and grinned sheepishly. "Right." He accepted the clothes and slipped into the weapons room for some privacy, changing as quickly as the small space and the darkness would allow. The weight of the Buster Sword on his back was a relief and he felt protected again, safe—as though he had donned a full body suit of armor. The sword was many things to him—his weapon, his shield, and the reminder of all his hopes, dreams, and failures. He could still see Angeal's face instead of his own when he looked into the cool metal. Once and a while his old mentor was smiling but more often his face was a canvas of sorrow and regret, framed by white hair, and sometimes Zack hated both images for though they were different, they reminded him equally of everything he'd lost.

Zack sighed, shutting down the negative train of thought. Brooding simply didn't suit him. Sure, he'd lost immeasurable things, but he'd gained a great deal too—friends, true love, a new cause, a new purpose, and another chance at life. There weren't many in the world as lucky as him.

"Ready?" He asked as he stepped from the weapons room into the silver light of the corridor.

The small group stood huddled together a few feet away, waiting. The pale moonlight from the windows and the dim night lights threw their features into a sharp relief of shadow and light and deepened eyes into glistening pools of silver that reflected a dozen emotions ranging from trepidation to resolve. This wasn't going to be easy, but what in life had been for any of them. As momentous as this task seemed, they were ready. Zack knew without a single word spoken, their eyes said it all.

"Good," Zack continued, stepping closer. He noticed something strange attached to Aerith's back and frowned. "What's that?"

Aerith arched an eyebrow at his surprised expression. "My staff."

"You have a weapon?" He wasn't sure why this startled him so badly—perhaps that he couldn't picture delicate Aerith ever hurting a fly, much a less a person—but it did.

"Of course." Her tone was slightly incredulous, as though she couldn't grasp why he didn't understand something so simple.

He wasn't sure why this felt like such a big deal, either. Aerith had a weapon, so what? Wasn't it a good thing that she was capable of protecting herself? No, he realized abruptly, it wasn't … because it was just another sign of how much she had changed, how many years had passed, how much he had _missed. _And it _hurt. _But he would never, ever, tell her that.

"Right, sorry," he said, smiling at her. "You'll have to show me what you can do with it later."

She nodded, returning the smile, but there was slight doubt in her eyes—silently questioning his sincerity. "Sure."

"Shouldn't we get movin'?" Barrett asked, cutting through their awkward conversation easily.

"Yeah," Zack agreed, striding down the hall toward the elevators.

Once they left the cell area, he saw that the two guards by the elevator had been knocked out in similar fashion to the one by the cell and not a single alarm sounded. Everything was so still it was almost unnerving—similar to the feeling from the second reactor—like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Ignoring the mixture of terror and dread beginning to settle into his stomach, as well as the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, Zack approached the elevator and nervously inserted the card, half expecting alarms to start blaring and guards to pour from the shadows to haul them back to their cells. Instead, the elevator door slid open easily and silently, maintaining the hush that had descended over the floor.

Once they had crowded into the glass elevator, Zack pressed the button for the third floor, knowing instinctively what their next course of action should be. The others, however, were curious.

"Why are we going all the way down to the third floor?" Tifa asked.

Zack let loose a humorless smile. "Because that's where they keep all of their vehicles. There's a showcase room down there. We can take a vehicle and get out of here. We'd never make it on foot." He glanced at the floor indicator as it reached thirty-five. "We should be ready. I have no idea what security is going to be like on that floor or how much our mystery rescuer has really helped us."

"Probably gonna be a trap," Barrett grunted, shifting his arm into a gun with a serious of loud, ominous clicks.

"I'm not sure of that," Red XIII argued. "Shinra has nothing to gain by toying with us."

"Except his own sadistic pleasure," Tifa snorted, adjusting her gloves as the floor indicator lit up twenty.

"It isn't like him to waste guards simply to toy with us, though," Aerith replied.

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "But what other explanation is there?"

"Someone in Shinra wishes to help us," Red stated in a bored tone, as though it should be obvious.

"I can't imagine who," Zack said. 10 lit up on the floor indicator. Not long now.

Red swished his fiery tail, ignoring the way Barrett flinched when it got too close to his pant leg. "That is not important at the moment. Right now, we should just focus on getting away safely."

As usual, the strange creature was right. The floor indicator chimed happily as it stopped on the glowing 3 and the doors slid open, revealing two surprised guards. Zack swiftly knocked them out and dragged them into the elevator, tying their ankles and feet using their shoelaces.

"So, whoever helped us didn't take out security on this floor," Tifa remarked as she helped Zack place the two guards in the far corner of the elevator.

"It was probably too difficult," Zack replied. "This floor is a bit more heavily guarded. Shinra is proud of all its cars, motorcycles, and stuff. Besides, they think that no one is smart enough to break out of their cells."

"So far that theory remains true," Red commented with his equivalent of a smirk.

Zack chuckled at the irony. "True."

The group moved from the elevator cautiously, keeping the shadows around them like a cloak as they crept toward the vehicles on display. Zack glanced at the stairs as they neared another platoon of guards, and pulled Cloud close, whispering in his ear. "You guys wait here, take out those guards, and get a truck or something. I'll be back."

Before Cloud could ask where he was going, the ex-SOLDIER vanished, hurrying up the stairs. The others stared in open confusion. "What?" Tifa hissed at Cloud.

Cloud shook his head, gesturing toward the guards. "Let's get them."

The guards, hearing hushed noises from the darkness, had nervously drawn their weapons and were inching closer. The minute they stood on the border of shadow and light, Cloud moved—a blur of color—and dispatched them with four well-placed swipes. They collapsed to the floor in a cacophony of clattering weapons and clanking armor. The rebels winced as the noised bounced through the cavernous room—no doubt alerting more guards.

"Hurry," Cloud hissed.

They ran, aiming at a blue truck only a few feet away. Tifa's fingers brushed the handle when the darkness lit up in brilliant red and the silence was shattered by the harsh, ceaseless wail of an alarm. Tifa and Barrett cursed simultaneously and the warrior ripped open the door, throwing herself into the cab. Aerith scrambled around to the passenger side, while Cloud shoved Barrett and Red into the truck bed, pulling his sword out as he hopped up behind them. A few agonizing seconds passed as Tifa struggled to hotwire the truck and they sat helplessly, letting the alarms deafen them and the soldiers get closer with each breath. Then, the engine came to life with a triumphant roar that shook the very frame of the small truck.

Tifa cheered softly and slammed down the gas pedal. The truck jerked and shot forward, careening off its display pedestal and forcing the approaching grunts to scramble desperately for cover. They slammed into the display wall, sending glass flying in all directions, before Tifa slammed on the brakes, stopping the truck a few yards from the wall of windows. Another roar echoed, joining the noise of the first, and the group turned their heads in awe at the motorcycle that came crashing down the stairs, shooting off the last few steps and sailing neatly into the middle of the room—Zack guiding it expertly.

He screeched to a halt beside Tifa, grinning like a madman. Tifa rolled her eyes while Aerith shook her head at his antics. She should have known.

"What now?!" Tifa yelled over the combined racket of the engines and the shrieking alarms.

A strange, serious look flooded Zack's face, dragging his smile away. "Do you trust me, Tifa?" he asked.

"What?!" Tifa cried, fingers curling around the wheel in distress.

"Do you trust me?" Zack repeated—his voice almost lost in all the noise.

"Yes!" Tifa screamed as the guards rushed the truck, raising their weapons—the clicking of their guns joining the wild dissonance.

"Then follow me!" Zack yelled and squeezed the gas. The motorcycle fishtailed briefly before the ex-SOLDIER straightened it out and set a direct course for the massive windows.

Tifa's jaw dropped as Zack pushed the motorcycle faster and the bike crashed through the windows in a whirlwind of noise, glass, and fumes, sailing almost gracefully through the air until it landed harshly on the highway below. Zack held on for dear life, trying to stabilize the lurching vehicle.

Up in the building, Tifa exhaled slowly—the sound ragged with nerves—and fingers bleached as they gripped the steering wheel while one booted foot hovered precariously over the gas pedal and the guards drew ever closer.

Barrett realized with horror exactly what Zack expected of them and saw it as his duty to talk Tifa out of it. Twisting in the truck bed, he peered at Tifa through the small window and screamed at her desperately in a voice so loud it easily carried over all the thunderous noise. "Tifa! He's insanse! There's ain't no way we're gonna pull somethin' like that off! We should find a different way! _Tifa!" _

The black-haired woman wasn't listening—decision already made. She had been telling the truth when she told Zack she trusted him. He'd had yet to lead them astray and though he was as flawed as any other human being, he often knew exactly what he was doing so if he thought they could make a jump like this then they could.

"Hang on," Tifa ordered through tight lips and the boot slammed down onto the gas pedal. The truck shot forward like a bullet from a gun, racing toward the broken window at a frightening speed. Then, there was no ground left and they were flying—wheels spinning madly against nothing but air. Someone screamed—probably Barrett—as the truck hit the highway with jarring force, sending everyone flying in different directions.

Cloud slammed into Red and reached out on instinct, grabbing a handful of Barrett's flack jacket to keep the man from tumbling out onto the unforgiving highway. The truck lurched one final time and Barrett toppled backwards. Lights exploded across Cloud's vision as Barrett's head smashed into his chin and he fell backwards against the back of the truck cab beneath the weight of the much larger man. There was no pain, but something coppery filled his mouth, dribbling past his lips. He spat it out instinctively and was shocked to see blood all over his hand. Odd. Maybe he'd bitten his tongue.

Barrett righted himself with a muttered apology and they all settled into the back of the truck as it raced after Zack, following the red taillights of his weaving motorcycle. Behind them, the Shinra Building rose high into the night, unable, in spite of all its power, to do anything to prevent their escape.

The open highway stretched before them, offering the tantalizing promise of freedom which they gladly accepted, pushing their vehicles to the limit—leaving the executioner's noose far behind.

* * *

Back in the Shinra Building one lone Turk lay in a bed in the infirmary, listening to the alarms and the voice coming from the speakers, distorted but not enough to hide the panic, stating evidence of a breakout. He listened for a long moment before closing his eyes.

In the darkness and solitude of the room no one saw the smile spreading slowly across his face.

Many floors up in a stately office, two men exchanged a brief glance of triumph—one grinning almost uncontrollably, the other settling for a more demure smirk.

Things were definitely going well … for now.

* * *

**(Hides behind desk.) Yes, I'm sure you all understand now. No Sephiroth. And I'm not going to be cruel. I will state here and now that Sephiroth is not going to be the main villain of this story. He will be in it, but in a much smaller and very different role from his part in FF7. :D For all the Sephiroth fans who probably want to kill me now, I'm sorry. I love Sephy, too, and believe that he is probably the most amazing villain out there, but when I thought up this story idea a year ago he just didn't fit in as the villain. Oh, I begged and pleaded, threw plenty of plot ideas at him, anything I could think of. But nothing worked. **

**There are several reason why. I'll state a main one here: so much of the story of FF7 was Cloud dealing with the lie that he was Zack and had fulfilled his dreams, as well as Sephiroth's manipulation of him through that lie and the Jenova cells in him, then coming to grips with who the real him was and using his newfound inner strength to beat Sephy. Well, with Zack in the picture and Cloud with no memories that doesn't exactly work. The battle between Cloud and Sephiroth is so epic that for me, to have Zack there just wouldn't make it the same. I'm sure there are plenty of ways to work around this, but I also wanted to do more than just rewrite the game with Zack in it. I wanted to make my own story. So, this is the result. Now, these are just my own opinions and desires. I hope they don't offend anyone. **

**Well, I'm done babbling now. Hopefully everyone will stilll enjoy this story, despite the lack of evil Sephiroth awesomeness. XD **

**Please review, if you feel so inclined. I'd like to reach 200. A new record for me! **

**Coming up next--**new plans and a new leader.

* * *


	18. XVII: The Path to Refuge

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, this chapter is very short compared to recent ones and not much happens, but I hope you'll still enjoy it. We're kind of transitioning to the next phase of the story so things will pick up again once they get to Junon. :D **

**A huge thank you to all the people who reviewed last chapter. I made it to 200!! XD Sephy plushies for all of you! **

**Enjoy the chapter and review, review, review! **

* * *

A chill night wind swept across the barren wasteland surrounding Midgar, pulling sand up from its resting place to billow high into the air, brushing across the frolicking stars. The clouds had moved on, turning their attention somewhere more worthy, and now the sky was as clear as glass—deep black velvet with silver stars scattered like confetti across its expanse. A lonely moon watched the earth and in the darkness of the cliffs, hidden from its light, a group of refugees huddled together in a futile attempt to stay warm. In the distance, the lights of Midgar shimmered, reminding them they were far from safe. Most members of the small band kept their heads bent toward the ground, shielding their faces from the harsh, biting sand, but one turned wide eyes to the heavens, unable to look away.

"The sky," Aerith murmured—breath short with rapture.

Zack smiled, remembering their conversation from years ago, and nudged her gently. "Is it scary?"

Aerith shook her head without turning her gaze from the shimmering stars. "No, it's beautiful." She pulled her eyes away, locking them with his and instantly tumbling into their glowing depths. "Like your eyes."

He chuckled and nudged her again with his elbow. "Told you."

She smiled softly, "Yeah, you did."

A large gust of wind descended on them, digging icy fingers in deep before tearing away and leaving them shivering in its wake.

"What now?" Tifa asked through quietly chattering teeth. None of them had jackets and were suffering for their mistake.

Zack hesitated, glancing at Barrett with uncharacteristic uncertainty. He had a plan, which had been slowly formulating during their capture and escape, but he didn't want to undermine Barrett's authority. The burly rebel was the oldest of the group and its official leader so it was only natural for Zack to refer to his judgment. Barrett would more than likely take offense if he spoke up now, considering Zack's plan an attempt to take over leadership, and, in retaliation, refuse to listen.

But, Barrett surprised him. The big man turned his dark eyes on Zack and quirked an eyebrow—a slightly sardonic smile on his face. "Well, kid?"

Zack blinked in surprise and struggled to maintain his composure in the face of such an unexpected event. His calm mask only lasted until he opened his mouth and his stuttering voice gave him away. "W-what?"

Barrett actually laughed and Zack wondered briefly if this was some kind of joke, but the man's next words refuted that notion. "You should be leader, kid. You're better at it. You're right, I ain't done much for this group. It was nothin' until you came along. You got Aerith out and I'm bettin' you got a plan now. So, you're leader." He glanced around the group. "If everyone's okay with that."

Murmurs of agreement rose from the other members of AVALANCHE and Zack's lips parted in shock. Barrett laughed again—a boisterous sound—at the expression on his face. "You look like a fish," he chortled, obtaining revenge for Zack's earlier comment in the cell.

Zack snapped his mouth shut and willed his mouth to work. His first impulse was to thank Barrett for his generosity, but he knew that would only make the rebel uncomfortable. So, he accepted this abrupt change quickly and jumped ahead to the plan of action. They had little enough time as it was and every second wasted was a chance for Shinra's search hounds to draw closer.

"All right," he began, leaning in a little so they could hear him over the wailing wind, "here's the plan I have: we head for Wutai."

Tifa's head jerked up and wide eyes peered at him it the darkness. "Wutai?" Shock colored her tone. "Why Wutai? It's all the way across the planet!"

Zack understood her disbelief and hurried to dispel it. "Because they'll hide us."

Tifa frowned, but Zack could see the wheels in her head turning. She was smart—probably smarter than him—and he knew she would understand. "Right," she said after a moment. "They still hate Shinra. They probably wouldn't have any problems taking us in. And there isn't much fighting going on like in anti-Shinra places such as Fort Condor."

Zack nodded, grinning. "Yep."

"But how do we get there?" Red inquired. "We would need an airship or a boat. Both are hard to come by these days, or so I'm told."

"Yeah," Zack agreed, grimacing. "They are. But I think I know a place where we can get a ship. Rocket Town has plenty of airships left over from the space program, we should be able to _borrow _one."

"You mean steal one?" Aerith asked in disproval—her eyes boring into the side of Zack's face.

The ex-SOLDIER coughed and fidgeted beneath her hard glare. "We'll give it back," he mumbled and tried to ignore how childish his voice sounded; maybe it would sway Aerith to his side.

"Sure you will." Or not.

"We don't have a choice," he argued softly, begging Aerith to understand.

After a long moment she sighed in defeat and conceded the victory. "Fine."

He felt no triumph in the victory, only guilt, but refused to dwell on it—again, there simply wasn't time. "Okay, so we should head down to Junon and catch a boat to Costa del Sol. There's a chocobo farm not far from there so we can use them for transportation. Then it's a straight shot to Rocket Town."

"Sounds good to me," Barrett said with a short nod. "We got enough money to buy some stuff in Junon." He grinned, looking almost feral in the pale light. "Those guards were loaded."

"We should just buy food in Junon," Red flicked his tail idly as he spoke, making shadows dance across the sand, following the little ball of flame. "Then, we can load up on supplies once we are safely inside Costa del Sol."

"That would work," Tifa agreed.

"How far is it to Junon?" Cloud spoke for the first time in a voice laden with curiosity.

Zack sighed, rubbing his temple to fight off a growing headache. "Three days, probably. Two or one and half if we find some kind of vehicle and it's fast."

Aerith sighed wearily. "That's three days without food."

"I know," Zack groused, studiously ignoring the way his stomach rumbled in protest to such a condition. "But there isn't much we can do."

"We'll make it," Tifa's voice was determined, but her stomach betrayed her as well.

"We have to," Aerith agreed and a solemn silence fell over the group as they mentally prepared themselves for the long journey ahead. It wouldn't be easy; monsters littered the plains and wastelands between Midgar and Junon and everyone in the party was tired, hungry, and not operating at full capacity.

But they would make it simply because there was no other way and they were all survivors. Zack had gone much longer without food during his long run toward Midgar, but he was a little worried about Aerith and Tifa, even Barrett. They were no SOLDIERs, just painfully average. Could they handle such a harsh journey?

Their eyes told him they could and not to insult them with his worries so he kept all his doubts safely locked away within his own heart. If they were in danger, he would simply find a way to save them, even if it cost him his own life—he considered it a small price to pay in return for their safety.

"We should get movin'," Barrett said, ever the one to keep pushing them forward.

This time, no one could disagree. Midgar's lights seemed searching, as though the very eyes of the city itself were scanning the desert for them. Like the many monsters that roamed these wastes, they would soon be rooted out and killed by the hunter if they remained.

"Yeah," Zack agreed quietly and pushed himself to his feet, helping Aerith stand once he had his balance.

He kept her hand in his even after she was properly on her feet and she didn't protest. He allowed himself a small smile at that, for a brief moment feeling terribly young and naïve for delighting in something as simple as Aerith's hand in his. But, the simple things were what made life beautiful.

They moved in silence, remaining in the darkness of the cliffs and trying to keep their noise to a minimum while straining to hear the whirr of a helicopter or the roar of a motor amidst the howl of the night wind. As Midgar grew smaller and smaller behind them and the open sky and sand stretched on endlessly in front, Zack tried to shake the sense of déjà vu that assaulted him. This felt very much like that long, seemingly endless run from Nibelheim and it was undeniably similar—he was once again running from Shinra toward a place of safety—but this time a few things were startlingly different: Cloud walked on his own, Aerith's hand was warm against his glove, and he was running away from Midgar instead of towards it.

Oh, how things changed.

* * *

Elena cautiously raised her hand and rapped it lightly against the mahogany wood of the door then stepped back to brush invisible dust off the shoulders of her already immaculate suit jacket. She couldn't understand why she had been summoned or for what purpose and it made her slightly nervous, though she knew this person well and took comfort in the absolute certainty that he would never harm her.

"Come in," a voice called and Elena obeyed, pushing open the door and stepping into the expansive office.

He was standing by the windows—his usual position—looking down on the city below, but with a far different gaze than that of his father. When the President stared at the city, Elena often saw hints of greed and hunger in his eyes but in Rufus's she only ever found sadness. He didn't turned around, but she hadn't expected him to and directed her gaze to his reflection in the clear glass—an almost perfect replica of his face.

"Elena," he said and she straightened unconsciously.

"You called me, sir?" She kept her voice clipped, professional, to sufficiently mask her curiosity and hesitation. Cissnei was supposed to be guarding Rufus and while Elena might sometimes feel a bit of resentment for the woman who robbed her of the title "Only Female Turk" she couldn't deny that Cissnei was a fine Turk and would do an excellent job.

So, why then did Rufus insist on seeing her?

"Yes," Rufus murmured. "I did. I would like you to come to Junon with me."

She barely hid her surprise. "Sir?"

He turned now to gaze at her directly with his usual piercing stare—blue eyes seeing straight through every mask or lie she could ever erect in her defense. "I want you to come. You have made this trip many times and are much better suited for this whole ordeal than Cissnei. She will trade places with you until Reno recovers."

There was something else in his words—a hidden meaning she couldn't quite define. Was he implying that he trusted her more than the others? It was true that they had often worked together in the past, but…

Realizing he was waiting for her response, she buried her questions and nodded. "Of course, sir. I'll let Cissnei know. Reno should be better soon and ready to pursue AVALANCHE."

Rufus nodded, saying nothing—though _something _flickered through his eyes, again indefinable. She held back a wave of hot frustration. "We'll leave in the morning."

Elena hesitated briefly, wondering how far she could push while remaining safely within the boundaries of proper respect. It was worth a try, she decided. "Sir, why are we going to Junon?"

Rufus's eyes darkened several shades until they were pools of navy and his face hardened, letting her know instantly she'd had stumbled upon a tense situation and probably been far too bold. "The President wishes for me to attend to some matters there." His tone was clipped and final, warning her to end the conversation or suffer the consequences.

She knew better than to question further. "All right, sir."

Rufus turned his attention back to the window—her signal to leave—with a quiet, "See you then."

She left without a word, thoughts running circles in her head without any definite conclusion.

* * *

Zack sighed softly as his stomach clenched in an angry demand for food. The truck rattled beneath them, racing down the coastal road toward Junon, and in the distance the sea shimmered brilliant aquamarine and silver—light from the sun dancing merrily across the surface of the water to create an almost blinding glow. Aerith had stared at the distant ocean until sleep finally pulled her away into a different world. Zack chuckled at her fascination, but he supposed it was better than staring at the dust clouds billowing in their wake or the endless blue expanse above them. As beautiful as the sky was, the way the light frolicked across the sea was absolutely captivating.

A day and half—they'd walked a day and a half before a truck driver took pity on them and offered them a ride into Junon, where he was headed to pick up some supplies. They had gratefully accepted and—Zack guessed—sat in the truck for the past six hours. His back and rear were starting to go numb and his legs ached from the cramped quarters, but it was much better than walking and they didn't have to worry about monsters this way so he didn't complain.

Tifa sat up front with the elderly truck driver, politely listening to endless tales of his family back home in Kalm. The man certainly was talkative but Tifa seemed genuinely curious so words flowed easily between them and hadn't ceased in hours. Cloud sat on one side of the truck bed with Red next to him—both man and animal casting curious, assessing glances at each other every few minutes, each time far too observant eyes collecting more information about their new companion. Aerith occupied the other side and had curled up on the floor with her jacket as a pillow and one arm over her face as a shield from the harsh glare of the sun. Her chest rose and fell in even breath, signs of peaceful slumber, and Zack idly combed his fingers through hair in a soothing motion. He sat with his back against the cab of the truck—his sword on the ground at his side, and Aerith's head near his thigh—facing Barrett who sprawled out against the tail end with his chin against his chest, taking up most of the limited space. His soft snores could barely be heard over the rattle of the old truck. The movement was jarring and every time they hit a pothole or rut, Zack's teeth clacked together painfully. In the ex-SOLDIER's opinion it was nothing short of a miracle the truck hadn't fallen to pieces yet.

Silence had reigned for the better part of an hour among the group while they dozed on and off—too weary to keep their eyelids open for more than a few seconds at a time—but now, Cloud spoke quietly, directing a question to the silent creature at his side and ending the information-gathering game they'd been playing for the better part of an hour. "Red, what's your name?"

Red seemed surprised by the sudden inquiry and lifted his head from the floor of the truck to direct a puzzled stare at the blond. "Red XIII."

Cloud shook his head, something fierce in his normally subdued eyes. "What's your _real _name?"

This stunned Red even more and he floundered for answer for a moment, trying not to let too much of his discomfort show. Cloud ignored his silence and pointed at the XIII branded into his skin. "You're like me," he mumbled. "So I know Red XIII isn't your real name."

Zack shifted uncomfortably, wrenching his gaze from the clouds to his companions. He didn't like where this was going, not one bit. He wasn't ready for Cloud to find out too much about Hojo. _Cloud _wasn't ready to learn the truth. Not yet. But he could do nothing to stop the discussion so he kept himself quiet using every drop of his willpower, chewing on his bottom lip to release some of the tension building up within him.

Red was staring hard at Cloud, assessing him silently. "You have one too?" he asked finally, cocking his head. The way he said it made the query seem more like an observation than an actual question.

Cloud slowly rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm for Red to examine. The creature's eyes widened upon seeing the VIII and the symbol. He inspected it closely for several long moments while Cloud fidgeted under his examination before looking away to the swirling dust. "I see." Red's voice was lined with cold steel. "I'm sorry."

Cloud quickly covered the tattoo. "It's fine." The words spilled out too quickly to be truthful but Red let it slide.

Red glanced at him, a question dawning in his eyes before escaping his lips. "Is Cloud your real name?"

To Zack's horror, Cloud hesitated, eyes morphing into almost perfect circles of shock and dismay as he considered this question. "I…"

"It is," Zack said hurriedly, reaching out to Cloud before the blond could panic and gripping his shoulder tightly to anchor him and reassure him. "It is, Cloud, don't worry."

Red glanced back and forth between them with a puzzled frown—at least, Zack thought it was since he still wasn't too good at reading the creature's expressions. "I don't understand."

Cloud looked at him with sad eyes. "I don't remember," he whispered. "Not anything about me or my past."

An old, familiar ached burned in Zack's heart and he swallowed painfully, fighting the raging guilt away. _Oh, Cloud… _

"I'm sorry," Red said with a graceful nod of his head and sincere sympathy in his regal voice. "I cannot imagine."

Cloud didn't even attempt a reassuring smile, just stared hard at the metal floor of the truck. "It's … not so bad."

Both Zack and Red knew he was lying, but neither had the heart to tell him so. The topic had become far too painful and so they hurried forward to other things, leaving it behind. Conversation turned to Red's background and he told them about his grandfather and his people in Cosmo Canyon who were determined to end Shinra's oppressive rule.

Then Zack started to recall the adventures of AVLANCHE—which Red was intensely curious about. About halfway through Barrett woke up and began adding his own opinions and details to Zack's story while Aerith listened intently as well—often interjected comments of surprise over all the close calls they had experienced. After a while, Tifa turned around in her seat, pushed open the back window of the cab, and joined the lively storytelling with relish. Questions and conversation flowed easily between them as the bond connecting them all deepened and expanded, pulling Red into its folds.

Tattoos, laboratories, and Red's real name were never mentioned again.

* * *

The gun slipped from his grasp and clattered onto the floor, causing a vehement curse to pour from the frustrated redhead. He glared at the offending weapon, which mocked him from the floor, knowing full well he couldn't bend over and retrieve it. In retribution, he kicked it as hard as he could, watching with satisfaction as it went skidding and tumbling across the floor of the shooting range before crashing into a wall.

"Reno?" A voice asked behind him, laced with a strange combination of amusement and concern.

He glanced over his shoulder at Cissnei with an arched eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She hesitated and he fought the urge to scowl at her. If she asked him if he was doing all right or how he was feeling, he was going to scream. He hated the pity he saw in his comrades' eyes—even Rude, who hid behind sunglasses couldn't fully mask it. He didn't need their pity or their sympathy or anything else they offered. He was hardly worthy of it anyway.

But Cissnei had always been observant and she seemed to pick up on the tension rolling off him in waves and smirked. "What did the gun do to you?" A teasing light colored her voice and he relaxed slightly, relieved at the somewhat neutral ground she offered.

"Disobeyed. Stupid thing won't stay put and let me shoot with it, keeps slipping." He glowered at the gun in the corner and Cissnei chuckled sardonically.

"Well you sure showed it."

He didn't smile and couldn't have if he wanted to—such gestures simply wouldn't come these days. Instead he nodded in absent agreement, wondering why she was here. "Aren't you supposed to be guarding Rufus?"

Cissnei blinked at him for a moment then shook her head. "No. Elena and I switched duties. She's going with him to Junon, didn't she tell you?"

"No, I haven't seen her all day." Probably because he was avoiding her like the plague, but Cissnei more than likely already knew that. They were Turks, nothing slipped past them.

"Oh," she said neutrally and looked away at the targets. Stifling silence enveloped them for a moment before Cissnei hesitantly turned her brown orbs back to him and Reno recoiled from the sudden sympathy he found there, mentally cursing and frantically searching for to escape the probing questions he knew were coming. The conversation apparently hadn't been as neutral as he first believed.

_Stupid Cissnei, _he thought bitterly. _Why can't she just leave it alone?_

"Reno?" It was filling her voice—that awful concern that made him feel weak and wretched and angry all at the same time.

"Yes," he gritted out, remaining unmoved by the concern in her voice and eyes. He wanted her concern even less than he wanted her sympathy.

"We're … we're worried about you, you know."

_I know. You've all made that perfectly clear. I couldn't miss it even I was blind and deaf. _

"You've been really quiet lately and you're already practicing shooting even though you just got released from the infirmary yesterday night. Are you…are you going to be okay?"

_No. Of course not. _"Yes. I'll be fine." He tried to make his voice nonchalant, unconcerned, but all the churning emotions latched onto the words and weighed them down, exposing his vulnerability.

"Well…" She trailed off and his already frayed patience snapped as easily as a rotting twig.

"Just leave it alone!" He cried, glaring at her. "All of you! I'm sick of it! I'm not dead and I'm not dying and I'll be fine, okay? Just …" the fight seeped from him like water from a sponge and he slumped forward, bowing his head. His arm and shoulder screamed at him, earning a tired grimace, and there was a familiar pain in his other arm that firmly told him he needed to rest unless he wanted to collapse where he stood. "… just leave it alone. Leave me alone."

His words were ice and fire at the end and he strode past Cissnei without looking at her, unwilling to face all the emotion in her eyes. It would be better if none of them cared. He didn't want them to care.

That way they wouldn't miss him when he was gone.

* * *

"We haven't found them yet, sir."

The President turned to glare angrily at the blond woman in his doorway—his gaze threatening to burn her alive. She didn't flinch away from his wrath, merely raised her chin in a show of defiance only she could get away with.

"Keep trying," he spat, clenching pudgy hands to into furious fists as his face turned red from his rage.

Scarlet frowned—hesitation marring her usually confident features. "Sir, should we use _them?" _

The President frowned and the anger slipped from his features under the force of his surprise. "No," he said flatly after only a few seconds pause. "We'll save them for a last resort."

Scarlet nodded, bowing slightly at the waist in a display of respect she only offered to this one man. "We will keep looking, Mr. President."

"Good," the President said with narrowed eyes. They boiled darkly, whispering of the horrible fate AVALANCHE was going to suffer for everything they'd done. "I want them _found._"

Scarlet left without a word and breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her, separating her from the fiery anger that permeated the very air of the president's office. Adjusting her hair, she hurried off down the hall as quickly as she could manage while still maintaining her dignity. AVLANCHE would most certainly pay for all the trouble they'd caused. She absolutely refused to take their place as the object of the president's rage.

Narrowing her eyes in a manner similar to her leader's, Scarlet allowed a vicious smile to creep onto her beautiful face—distorting it eerily. Oh yes, AVALANCHE would _pay._

* * *

**Well, sorry it was short. Hopefully, I'll have the next one out soon. Again, please review. I absolutely love hearing all of your comments. :3**

**Coming up next--**a city by the sea, a girl and her dolphin, and some clever disguises.


	19. XVIII: The City by the Sea

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, sorry for the long delay. I had surgery again and then my computer broke and had to be sent in for repairs. I was almost done with the chapter, too. (sigh). Oh well, hopefully this chapter is worth the wait. **

**Enjoy and review! I'd love to hear your thoughts, criticism, anything about the chapter. :D**

* * *

"Wh—what happened here?"

This wasn't the Junon Zack remembered. When he thought of Junon he saw a huge cannon that could be seen from miles away, gleaming buildings that looked out over the sea, stately offices with lush decorations, expansive airstrips filled with polished aircraft, and a sun-kissed ocean that sparkled brighter than a thousand diamonds, not ramshackle huts and timeworn fishing boats or people with sad eyes, slumped shoulders, and faces full of weariness alongside children with dirk-streaked faces and tattered clothes. A shroud of despair covered this place so thick it choked him and the weight of it on his shoulders was almost unbearable.

Barrett shot him a questioning look. "Nothin' happened here. The fishermen's area's always been like this. Ain't you ever been down here?"

"No," Zack mumbled. He realized then, with a great amount of reproach, that this world had always existed, he'd just never bothered to look at it. Oh, how naïve he'd been then. How foolishly, utterly naïve, thinking the world was all dreams and bright futures amidst towering, perfect buildings and clear blue skies.

He could sense the eyes of the others on him and almost apologized, for what he wasn't quite sure, but he bit it back, knowing he had changed and his past self didn't need any more punishment than the horrors he'd been forced to endure.

"Look," Aerith said suddenly, ending the uncomfortable silence that had blanketed the group. "People are sick here, too."

Zack followed her finger to a young woman who was chatting with an elderly man a little ways down the street, attention split between him and the child tugging at her pant leg. At first, everything about her seemed normal, but past the dirt dusting her arms Zack saw black splotches marring her pale skin—the same that had covered people in the slums of Midgar.

"What is it?" Tifa asked softly, sadly—her eyes fixed on the young woman who was probably only in her twenties and had barely any time left to live.

"No one knows." Aerith's hand fisted in her skirt and her eyes showed Zack a healer's aching heart. "And there is no cure."

Her ominous words invoked a hushed silence as each member of the small band retreated into their own thoughts—some mourning the dead claimed by the terrible disease, some wondering how many more would die, some cursing Shinra who was no doubt to blame for all of this (like they were everything else), and some merely wondering what it would be like to die such a slow, painful death.

After a few long moments Zack shook himself out of his reverie and ventured a hesitant step forward into the town. The simple motion broke the spell on the others and wordlessly they followed him, trying to ignore the many stares they were receiving. Zack supposed they really must look strange—two men with glowing eyes and huge swords, a girl with wine-colored eyes dressed in clothing made for fighting, a delicate-looking girl in a skirt with a ribbon in her hair and a staff of all things on her back, a man with a metal arm, and a red creature with a flaming tail. On top of that, Zack knew they were all covered head to toe in dust and grime—Red had even turned a pale brown, which Zack found extremely amusing—and staggered along like the undead, weak from hunger and exhaustion. Yes, the poor people of Junon had every right to stare. In fact, it was amazing that they didn't run away screaming.

Zack stopped in front of a middle-aged man who was repairing a fishing net outside a shack that leaned dangerously to one side. "Do you know where we can buy food and water?" Zack asked and realized for the first time how raspy his voice sounded and how much his throat hurt—like someone had cut it up with barbed wire.

The man looked startled and then terrified and then sympathetic when he looked past the glow and caught sight of the desperation in Zack's eyes. "One sec." His voice was rough and carried traces of an accent that Zack had never heard before.

The man rose from his seat and vanished inside his house. Zack blinked after him in confusion—his fogged mind unable to understand the other's actions. Maybe the man was going to retrieve a map?

The man didn't come back with a map, but a large jug of water. Zack stared at it blankly when the man held it out to him. "For us?" he finally managed, absolutely floored.

The man nodded, a smile increasing the lines on his face and showing off yellowed, crooked teeth. "You all look like ya need it more than we do. And that's really saying something."

Zack knew his mouth was hanging open but could do nothing to remedy it. How could this man be offering them, strangers, water from his own home? That kind of selflessness didn't exist anymore. Yet the jug was being extended to him and there was a light of kindness in the man's eyes, so yes, maybe there was hope for the world after all. Sensing that offering to pay him would be a great insult, Zack took the jug with a simple "thank you."

"There's a store down the road," the man pointed down the wide dirt road to where the houses were a little sturdier and evenly spaced out. The contrast between them and the decaying shacks on the outskirts was both startling and painful. "Near the center of town. It don't have much but it should have a little bit of food."

"Thank you," Zack said again, gripping the jug almost reverently.

The man just waved in both acknowledgement and dismissal and went back to his net, whistling softly to himself. Zack shook his head, smiled softly, and turned back to the others.

"He gave me water," he explained in response to their curious stares.

"Wow," Tifa whistled sharply. "That's something you don't see every day."

They eagerly passed the jug around, each gulping down a decent amount of water greedily and rejoicing in the feeling of the cool liquid soothing their parched lips and aching throats. All too soon, the jug was empty and the group stared with forlorn eyes.

Zack heaved a sigh that was trapped somewhere between contentment and frustration. "Let's go find the store. Maybe they have more water."

The others nodded their agreement and the small band of refugees began their short sojourn down the road.

The shopkeeper was nothing like the man who had offered them water. Short and stout, he sported a ragged beard and a perpetual scowl. His small, shifty eyes scanned them, taking in their bedraggled appearance with haughty disdain.

"I don't serve tramps," he snorted, waving his hand in the direction of the door. "Get out."

Zack frowned and stepped forward, slapping some gil down on the counter. "We can pay," he grit out, boring holes into the man's back with his glowing eyes.

The shopkeeper turned around—an angry retort on the tip of his tongue—but froze when he found himself looking at pulsing eyes set in a face twisted into a perfect picture of both hot anger and fierce determination. His beady eyes widened and then trailed to the huge sword on the "tramp's" back. "Uhh…" he stammered eloquently—all superiority gone.

"Look," Zack's patience was gone and it showed in his clipped tone. "We've just traveled for nearly three days without food and with only limited water. You have food. You have water. Give it to us and we'll pay you. Refuse and we'll force you. Got that?"

The little shopkeeper nodded so fast his head was almost a blur. "O-of course, s-sir. O-one moment." He hurriedly shuffled away and began pulling out items with frantic urgency, following Zack's occasional directions on what to grab.

When the counter was full with bags of various food items, Zack paid the man, thanked him, and left—either failing to see, or ignoring the way he practically fainted once they were gone.

Once outside again, Barrett chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, kid, you really got him going."

"Yeah," Tifa laughed. "You definitely have a temper when you're hungry."

Zack flushed and glowered at them in mock outrage. "Hey, I didn't see any of you guys stopping me! You would've done the same thing."

"Definitely," Barrett agreed with a nod and mischievous grin.

Aerith shook her head, but she was smiling, while Cloud and Red wore looks of both confusion and indifference.

"We should eat," Red pointed out with his usual seriousness and as usual, everyone agreed.

"Let's head down to the sea," Zack suggested with a glance around, catching several people's inquisitive eyes before they hurriedly looked away. "Less prying ears and eyes."

Everyone agreed with this suggestion, uncomfortable with all the curious stares that made them feel like "fish in a tank"—according to Barrett—and migrated down to the seaside. Here there was considerably less activity—just fishermen tending their nets or boats and the occasional group of children frolicking in the sand or waves—and everyone was far too busy to pay the dirty, tired strangers any mind. The group found an open patch of sand, sat down, and divided up the food—Aerith serving as the distributor to avoid arguments from erupting, namely from Zack and Barrett, who were both cranky and convinced the other would take more than their allotted share. Once peace had been established—or rather, mouths were too full for conversation—a quiet lull settled over the group as they slowly began to unwind from their strenuous trek.

After a while, Aerith got up and walked closer to the water's edge, watching the waves roll toward shore then retreat with absolute fascination. She was so absorbed in the pattern that she failed to notice the person coming up behind her and nearly jumped a foot in the air when two strong arms wrapped around her.

A familiar chuckle echoed in her ear and Zack's teasing voice followed. "Jeez, Aerith, I didn't know you could jump so high."

"You startled me," she said defensively, managing to dig an elbow into his stomach.

"Ow!" He protested and tightened his grip on her. "What was that for?"

"For sneaking up on me." He just laughed in response and rested his chin on her shoulder with drawn-out sigh of contentment.

"It's nice holding you." She turned her head a little so she could see the side of his face. His eyes were on the sea but there was an emotion—sadness? regret? pain?—in them she couldn't define.

"You never did it much before." She tried to keep her voice light, casual, but she could hear the weight of emotion and curiosity in it.

His arms tightened their hold. "I know. I'm sorry." It was definitely sadness in his eyes now, though the source was hard to pinpoint.

"It's okay. You're holding me now."

"You never gave up on me." She froze, momentarily off-balance by the abrupt subject change.

"Zack?" She twisted in his arms until she was facing him and looked up into his pale blue eyes, trying to understand everything she saw floating through their depths.

"Your mom said you never gave up on me. Even after I was gone for _five _years. Why?"

What had brought this up? She bit her lip at the tired lines she saw on his face. He looked _old_ and for the first time in a while she saw the shadows in his eyes and the inner scars he tried so desperately to hide from her. It reminded her again that this wasn't the Zack that had left for Nibelheim five years ago. This Zack was a little more stained, a lot less naïve, and quite a bit more affectionate. The way he loved her was different, too. Before he left, she'd characterized him as a bit of a ladies' man and a flirt and wouldn't have been surprised if he extended his charm to a few other women besides her. He'd loved her, but it had been an almost casual kind of love with a blend of both enthusiasm and naivety. Now, he seemed to only have eyes for her and he didn't even banter with her as much as he used to. His love was deep—deeper than she'd ever seen—and a little more intense, from the way he held her to the way he looked at her. She'd caught a bit of fear in his eyes, as though he was afraid she was going to slip away at any given moment.

Now, looking at him, she was startled by what she saw in his eyes—_doubt, _where there had never been any before.

"Because I love you," she said, answering his question. "And love never gives up."

He swallowed. "Did you ever wonder?"

"All the time." She closed her eyes, thinking of those dark years and the day in the church she had vowed to move on. "I even tried to let you go, but …" she trailed off, knowing he'd understand what she left unspoken.

He looked over her head, out toward the sea. "Sorry."

She slapped his chest. "Don't apologize. Something tells me it isn't your fault."

He flinched, though from her words or the blow she couldn't tell. Either way, it made her uneasy. There was still so much he wasn't telling her. Why? What he had he gone through? The shadows and scars whispered of something terrible, beyond her imagination, and the choking agony in his voice when she first saw him again haunted her still.

_"A lot of … bad things happened. I … can't talk about it … right now. Please…"_

"Zack? Will you … tell me what happened?"

He stiffened instantly in response to her hesitant question and she felt him retreating, throwing up walls and barriers to hide the shadows and those scars. She chased him desperately, unwilling to let him fall back behind a cover of smiles and false cheerfulness. "Zack, please! We can't run from this forever!" She grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him down so she could look him in the eye. He lowered his gaze to her chin—stubborn as always. "Zack…"

"Someday I'll tell you." It was a pained whisper but it didn't lack conviction. "When I'm strong enough."

Her eyes widened in concern at his last statement and she was almost certain now that something truly unspeakable had happened to him in Nibelheim. "Zack…"

He lifted his eyes to hers and managed a smile—very different from his normal ones, but somehow more heartwarming than even his brightest grins. "I promise, Aerith. I just … need a little more time."

More time, she supposed she could give him that. She ignored the poisonous, resentful voice that whispered, _don't you think he's kept you waiting long enough? _If he needed time, she'd give him every minute, hour, and day of her life—as long as took—and she would never, ever let him go again … because if she did, he might really be gone forever.

"All right," she said softly. "If you need time, Zack, I'll give it to you."

The tension left him through a long, quiet sigh and his smile was a little brighter than before. "Thank you."

She moved her hand to back of his head and kissed him, trying to pour every bit of her love into him and make him understand she wasn't going anywhere. There was nothing to fear now but meaninglessly, empty shadows. The past was finished, over.

_This _was real.

He seemed to understand and returned the kiss with earnest. They moved apart far too soon for her liking, but time was short and the others were almost done with the meal. Zack smiled at her—a look of blissful contentment in his stormy eyes—and opened his mouth to tell her something, but before the words could leave his lips a shrill scream rent the air, drifting down the beach. The fishermen and children paused for a moment, glancing around, but soon shrugged their shoulders and went back to their previous activities, too tired, too young, or too busy to care.

But Zack, ever the hero, was already running, darting around children and jumping over boats in his haste. Aerith shook her head and rushed to follow him, aware of the pounding footsteps of the others behind her. Cloud passed her easily, weaving through the scattered obstacles with graceful ease and soon becoming little more than a black, yellow, and blue blur on the horizon. Fishermen shouted in their wake, angry at the interruption, but they were ignored and left to stew in silence after the group had passed. Then, they rounded a bend and entered a small cove, surrounded by towering cliffs. The sand turned to slick rocks beneath their feet and everyone except Cloud and Zack fought for balance. The ocean roared with far greater fury here, hurling waves at the rocks and dousing the small band with its icy water again and again until they were all sopping wet and gasping at the salt stinging their eyes and coating their tongues.

The scene that greeted Aerith and the others when they caught up was a strange but intense one. A huge fish cut through the water in the cove, chasing a chattering dolphin in a tight circle while a little girl ran toward the water screaming for the dolphin to run away.

"Hey!" Zack reached for her, but she slipped on the rocks and tumbled head first into the dark water, dangerously close to the monster's sweeping tail. Zack pulled out his sword and yelled over his shoulder at the blond a few feet behind him. "Cloud, get the girl!"

Cloud, long-forgotten instinct taking hold of him, obeyed the order without hesitation, diving into the water and disappearing in search of the girl. Zack, meanwhile, also plunged into the ocean, but swam toward the creature, sword glinting in his hand. Aerith raced to the water's edge and scanned the water with frantic eyes for a glimpse of either man.

Cloud surfaced first—a coughing, spluttering girl in his arms. He staggered toward the shore, but nearly fell back in again when the creature reared up out of the water with a mighty screech, creating waves much larger than normal. It crashed back beneath the surface a few seconds later and the resulting tidal wave swept Cloud off his feet, propelling him toward the shore. Aerith's scream mingled with the girl's as Cloud fought to reach the safety of the shore and Zack remained invisible.

Cloud finally set the girl down in the sand and sank to his knees, coughing out a copious amount of water. Tifa rushed to comfort the sobbing the girl while Aerith grabbed Cloud's arm tightly, wild fear leaking from her wide eyes.

"Where's Zack?!" she cried desperately. "Did you see him?!"

Cloud's widening eyes were far from comforting. Without answering, the blond surged to his feet and tore into the water again with sword drawn and eyes blazing. Once again Aerith found herself at the rocky junction of shore and sea with Red at her feet and Barrett gripping her arm to keep her from suffering the same fate as the girl. Agonizing minutes passed ever so slowly, giving the tense group ample time to work themselves into a panic. Occasionally, water would shoot upward in an arcing spray or a tail would rise up and slap the surface of the sea with considerable force, pushing the water into large waves, but the two warriors didn't surface.

The little girl sobbed harder with each passing minute. "They're going to die!" Her wail felt like nails against a chalkboard and Aerith gritted her teeth against the pain.

She could wait no longer. "I'm going after them!" She tried to move forward, but Barrett held her firmly back.

"No," the big man said, shaking his head. "Yer just gonna get yourself killed. I'll go."

She tried to protest but Barrett shook his head and started into the water. To Aerith's horror, Red followed. "I am a decent swimmer. I will help."

They didn't get far from shore, however, before the churning sea suddenly calmed and the roars of the water beast abruptly ceased. Everyone paused, eyes on the sea, breath caught in their throats, hardly daring to hope that their comrades were all right. Aerith nearly wept with relief when a blond and a black head appeared above the dark water and slowly began bobbing toward shore. Soon, Zack and Cloud were stumbling up onto the rocks with the help of Barrett and Red, coughing harshly but smirking and grinning triumphantly.

Zack's feet had barely touched the rocks when Aerith hugged him hard, gasping into his wet sweater and pounding one fist against his chest. "What were you thinking?! You scared me half to death!"

He chuckled sheepishly and patted her wet hair in a calming gesture. "Sorry, I'm sorry."

"You'd better be," she retorted and turned to Cloud. Much to the blond's surprise, she hugged him too, just as fiercely. "Are you all right? Thanks for helping him."

Cloud stiffened a little, but awkwardly returned the hug. "I'm fine, it wasn't a problem."

Barrett slapped Zack on the back, nearly sending the smaller man face first into the sand, and laughed. "Man, I can't believe you guys killed that thing! It was huge."

"Yeah," Zack agreed, pushing sopping bangs out of his eyes. "It was. Sure put up a good fight. Nearly drowned us a few times." He flinched at Aerith's shocked gasp and offered her another disarming grin before turning toward the sand where Tifa sat watching them with worried but amused eyes—the little girl safe in her arms. "How's the girl?"

Tifa shook her head, chuckling slightly. "Out cold. She's completely exhausted."

Another voice, high with panic, suddenly caught their attention. "Priscilla!" An elderly man rushed down the stone steps carved out of the cliff side so fast he nearly fell. As it was, he still tripped his way down the last few and crashed to his knees as soon as he reached them, panting.

"She's all right," Tifa hurriedly assured him. "Just asleep."

The man sighed in relief and took the limp girl from Tifa's arms, smiling at the bedraggled, soaked group gratefully. "Thank you so much for helping her."

Zack paused in the process of trying to wipe his sword clean with his wet sweater and returned the smile. "No problem."

The man's eyes traveled over all of them and he chuckled. "You all look like drowned rats. Why don't you come with me and we'll get you dried off. My wife and I have plenty of room."

"We don't want to impose," Aerith said with a frown, but the man shook his head adamantly.

"Nonsense! It's the least I can do. Follow me." The man turned and started back up the steep staircase toward the city. The group of rebels exchanged glances and followed silently, reaching the unanimous conclusion that they did need rest and dry clothes.

The man's house was near the edge of the cliff—the only protection against the steep drop a small wooden fence that looked to be in the middle stages of decay. It was dilapidated but still in much better shape than the shacks closer to the outskirts of the small fishermen's village. The man pointed to the open door where a woman in a pink dress and blue apron stood gazing out with anxious eyes.

"That's my wife," he stated with a fond smile. "Go ahead and tell her I sent you. I'm going to take Priscilla home." With that he turned and headed deeper into the village.

After they explained events to the wife she smiled brightly in relief. "Well, I'm so glad she's safe. Come in, come in. I'll see if I can find you all something to wear while your clothes dry out."

She began bustling about the house, stirring up the fire, rummaging through drawers, all the while humming a cheerful tune and seemingly undisturbed by one man with a metal arm, two with glowing eyes and huge swords, and a creature with a tail of fire. Aerith thought she was a remarkable woman for this. Idly, she wondered if this was how she would look in the future—a content housewife with a gentle heart and busy hands. She found she didn't mind the idea at all.

The only strange event of the evening occurred after they were all dressed in clean clothes—Tifa and Aerith using some of her old dresses, and Zack and Cloud in the man's spare clothes while Barrett simply sat by the fire with Red to let his clothes dry off. Zack moved to introduce them but the woman held up her hand and shook her head sadly.

"No, dear," she told him kindly. "I don't want any names. I know you aren't normal and your eyes say you're Shinra, though you don't wear the uniform. I haven't seen SOLDIERs in years." Zack bit his lip, cursing his distinctive eyes yet again. The woman continued in a somber tone. "Yes, dear, you have a story to tell and I'm sure it isn't exactly a good one. We hate Shinra down here, for the things they've done, but we don't want any trouble either so don't tell me your names and if they come looking I won't be able to tell them anything substantial. All right?"

Zack nodded, saddened by the woman's words. But he understood. "Of course."

She beamed at him. "Good! Now let me go find some blankets. You all can spend the night here. It's getting late and you look like you could use a good night's sleep."

She waved off their protests and disappeared in the back of the house, sounds of her search drifting to the front room, warding off the impending silence. The refugees sat in on the floor, staying close to the fire for warmth, and regarded each other in silence, realizing for the first time the danger they were bringing with them to this place—the danger they would carry _everywhere _they went. It was a very grave realization and it weighed on each heart.

"We can't stay here long," Tifa finally spoke, resting her chin on her knees.

"Yes. We should leave first thing in the morning," Red agreed from his spot right in front of the fire, looking less like a drowned rat and more like a poofy cat with each passing minute.

Zack sighed, running a hand through his drying hair. "Yeah. First thing we'll head up to the city and try to get on board a boat."

"That ain't gonna be easy," Barrett grumbled.

Aerith shook her head. "Is anything easy anymore?"

No one could disagree with that. They were saved from brooding by the front door opening to let the elderly man through. He smiled at them. "Well, Priscilla's safe and sound, thanks to you."

"It was nothing," Zack said easily, again flinching under the weight of Aerith's glare.

The man chuckled. "I hardly call it nothing." Aerith silently agreed. "Well, I'm glad you've gotten settled. You can stay the night, of course."

"Thank you," Zack spoke for everyone.

Mirroring his wife, the man waved off their gratitude with an easy smile and a quiet chuckle. Aerith couldn't help but think that he reminded her a bit of Zack, though much older. Again, she wasn't bothered by the image. In fact, she hoped that Zack would live long enough to become gray-haired and wrinkled and that he'd still be coming home to her with a cheerful smile and dancing eyes. That was certainly a hopeful, somewhat foolish wish, but the flower girl couldn't bring herself to care.

Soon, they had settled in for the night—spread out on the floor in blankets since they absolutely refused to put the man and his wife out of their bed. As she lay in the dark, listening to her companions' quiet breathing, Aerith felt a strange peace envelope her heart. Even though they were wanted by the world's greatest power and tomorrow would have to venture back into the heart of danger, she knew they were going to be okay; they were going to make it.

In those moments Aerith felt as though they could even save the world.

* * *

The next morning dawned balmy and overcast. The sea's powerful murmur turned into a loud roar and waves beat the shore mercilessly, keeping all but the fishermen and their sturdy little boats away. No rain fell, though the occasional peal of thunder rumbled across the heavens, warning them of an impending storm and that the fishermen's time on the sea was limited. The man and his wife begged AVALANCHE to stay and wait out the storm, but they firmly refused, unwilling to endanger the couple further. The sooner they left the city and were out from under Shinra's thumb the better. And a storm couldn't keep Shinra's mighty ships grounded. They would sail as always, on schedule, and the rebel group needed to hurry if they were going to make it in time.

So, they bid the old couple a warm good-bye and headed out into the darkened streets in search of way up to the gleaming city above. They'd only ventured a little way down the street when a ball of energy and flying pigtails raced down a set of rickety stairs originating from a house suspended on stilts, and crashed right into Cloud. The startled blond let out a grunt of surprise and stared down at the little girl hugging him with open-mouthed amazement and wide-eyed trepidation.

Priscilla beamed up at him, looking perfectly healthy in spite of her brush with death not even twenty-four hours before. "You saved me!" she cried, tightening her hold on a very embarrassed, very anxious Cloud. "You're my hero, mister!" Her eyes sparkled with adoration while Cloud just gaped, unable to comprehend the notion of a little-girl crush.

"I-I-I…" He couldn't get any more words out but Priscilla didn't mind. Her hero with the glowing eyes and amazing sword could do no wrong in her eyes.

"I want to show you something _really _special!" She let go of his waist and grabbed his hand before he could protest. "Come with me!"

The others blinked in surprise as she began to haul the flustered blond down the street. Cloud shot them a pleading look over his shoulder, but in response his comrades just chuckled, shaking their heads.

"Better go with her, Spiky!" Barrett called in between bouts of helpless laughter.

Cloud's glare was one of the more impressive Zack had seen—reminiscent of their old days in Shinra—but before the blond could offer any kind of retort, Priscilla tugged him around a corner and out of sight. Zack shook his head, trying to stifle his laughter. "We'd better make sure he doesn't get himself into too much trouble," he snickered.

Everyone agreed and started off after the girl and her captive, following the sound of her voice, carrying on an endless, one-sided stream of conversation, as it drifted back through the narrow streets. Their journey carried on much longer than anyone had anticipated and soon amusement bled away into curiosity and a little bit of frustration.

"_Where _is she taking him?" Tifa muttered after a time, as they turned down yet another street—the narrowest and dirtiest one yet.

"This does not seem to be going anywhere," Red observed, darting around a pile of garbage and grimacing as the odor filled his sensitive nostrils. Barrett cursed as his foot landed in a foreign but decidedly unpleasant substance and continued forward, a scowl fixed firmly on his face.

Zack and Aerith looked at each other and simultaneously shook their heads, amusement and exasperation warring in their eyes.

To their surprise, Priscilla stopped at the very edge of the small village in front of a tunnel leading upward—narrow and littered with dangerous-looking wreckage and refuse, but still travelable. She pointed to it proudly and smiled up at Cloud. "This leads up _there." _She gestured above her and no one had to ask what she meant. "You want to go up there, right? Where all those Shinra people are." Her bright eyes darkened like clouds covering the sun. "You should be careful. Shinra's evil. I hate them." There was conviction in her voice and maturity in her words that didn't fit with her age. It made Zack sad, seeing a seven-year-old who already knew how to hate so well.

But what she'd given them was priceless and would shave a lot time off their journey.

"Thank you," Cloud murmured, squeezing her hand. The shadows on her face dissipated and when she beamed up at him she was just a little girl again.

"I found this place. No one else knows about it!" Her eyes glinted with mischievous light. "Sometimes," she continued in conspiratorial whisper, "I sneak up to the big city."

"You shouldn't," Cloud said firmly, getting over some of his discomfort. "It's dangerous."

She pouted a little but didn't argue. "You should go, mister. And your friends." She turned and smiled at them for the first time. "After all, you guys helped save Mr. Dolphin."

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?" Zack asked, stepping forward to get a better look at the tunnel.

Priscilla nodded solemnly. "He's my best friend."

Aerith laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "Well, tell him to be more careful next time. You too. I'm sure Mr. Dolphin wouldn't like it if you got hurt."

Priscilla shook her head. "He wouldn't. I'll tell him. And say hi for you!"

"Good," Aerith said with a smile, giving the girl's shoulder a squeeze.

Red spoke up from the entrance of the tunnel. "We should probably get going. It smells like rain." An undercurrent of worry laced his normally passive voice, letting the others know that more was coming than just rain. It was probably going to be quite a storm.

"All right," Zack agreed, trusting Red's superior sense of smell. He turned to smile down at Priscilla. "See you around, kiddo." She nodded, still gripping Cloud's hand.

The blond gently untangled his hand from hers and managed to dredge up a small smile. "Take care of yourself." She nodded, looking sad but resolute.

"You too. Bye, mister. Thanks for everything. I won't forget you."

Cloud didn't contradict her, merely nodded. "You're welcome." He didn't promise to remember her—his memory was far too fickle for that—but he did wish all the best for her. Maybe someday, Shinra would be gone and she wouldn't have to hate anymore. She reminded him a bit of Marlene, though he hoped Marlene would never grow up to understand hatred the way this little girl did.

They left Priscilla at the head of the trail, watching them with sad eyes while the wind pulled her pigtails and the hem of her dress in a dozen varying directions, and she remained rooted to that lonely spot long after her band of rescuers disappeared out of sight.

* * *

The city above was in a frenzy. Soldiers swarmed through it like blue ants, scouring the streets for any signs of troublemakers. Zack and the others crouched in an alley near the exit of the path, not far from the Shinra building, watching all the activity with worried eyes.

"Jeez, this is nuts," Zack grumbled, ducking further out of sight when a patrol passed far too close for comfort, a sergeant loudly shouting commands to his men—all Zack caught was a vague reference to the docks before they were gone in a blue and silver flurry. He huffed. "Someone pretty high up must be coming."

"Or they are looking for us," Red suggested, peering around Zack's shoulder at the towering Shinra building.

Zack shook his head. "This soon? I don't think so. They'll probably expect us to go to Kalm, Fort Condor, or the Mythril Mines first, not Junon."

"Yeah," Tifa put in sarcastically, "nobody's that crazy."

Zack laughed. "Exactly."

"So, now what?" Cloud asked—nervous eyes trying to catch every single thing happening around the headquarters.

"We need to get some disguises and head for the docks." Zack kept his eyes glued to the entrance.

Tifa groaned. "Great, more dress-up."

Barrett snorted. "There ain't no way all of us are gonna be able to sneak in there without anybody noticin' us."

Zack frowned. "You're right. No unless we fight our way in."

"Absolutely not!" Aerith protested, smacking Zack's shoulder.

Zack rubbed the back of his head and chuckled nervously. "Kidding."

Aerith rolled her eyes in exasperation, but let his ill-timed sense of humor slide. "So, what do we do?"

"A few of us sneak in," Zack replied. "And bring the uniforms out." Aerith didn't like the gleam in his eyes or his growing smirk. Stupid Zack, always rushing headlong into danger. But, his plan did have merit.

"Cloud and I will go. We fit in the best. You guys wait here." They were gone before anyone could protest, hurrying across the open expanse toward the massive second headquarters and within seconds, they had disappeared inside the monster's den.

Aerith just hoped they would come out safely. Her certainty from the night before was gone and she knew how foolish she'd been. They couldn't save the world. They were far too human for such a feat. If they got out of this mess alive and relatively unscathed, Aerith would be happy until her dying day.

Chewing her lip nervously, the flower girl, kept her eyes fixed on the door Zack and Cloud had vanished through, praying desperately they would come back out. Tifa shifted and put a hand on her arm, smiling in painful understanding.

And so they sat in the shadows of the alley and, like soldier's wives, waited for their men to return safely.

* * *

**Coming up next--**rebels, Shinra grunts, or stowaways?


	20. XIX: Playing Stowaway

**Disclaimer: **You should all know the routine by now. I own nothing except my own ideas, yadda, yadda, yadda.

**Well, sorry it's been so long. Distraction is a very time-consuming thing. My other stories diverted my attention for a while and the discovery of being able to download clips and make movies using iMovie, plus a renewed interest in FMA, and well ... yeah. Sunrise has been neglected and I apologize. Hopefully, this chapter is worth the long wait. :D **

**A huge thank you to the 10 wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter. Zack plushies for all of you! XD I promise I will go through and answer each of your reviews individually soon. I've been busy/distracted and haven't had the time. Again, my apologies. **

**Well, I won't make you wait any longer. Read on, and, like always, review!**

* * *

"Okay, let's go!"

Zack slipped from the shadows of the now-empty corridor and darted across the open space to a steel door a dozen feet down the hall. Pulling it open, he beckoned Cloud inside and locked it behind them. Uniforms and weapons of all shapes and sizes hung on numerous racks, filling the small space to the brim. Zack scanned them for a moment before pulling a grunt uniform off and shoving it at Cloud.

"Put that on and wrap up your sword with something, then let's grab everything we can and get out of here before anyone see us."

Cloud was already half into the uniform by the time Zack finished his instructions and nodded. "All right." Zack tossed him a rifle and gestured at the holster on his side.

"I'm not sure you know how to use that but it goes in—" He froze and blinked in surprise as Cloud expertly checked the gun and secured it in the holster with practiced ease. Some things never died, Zack supposed. Cloud had been an expert marksman during their Shinra days and apparently all the instincts were still there, buried beneath the mako fog. Cloud glanced at him with a frown, noting the obvious shock on his face.

"Zack…?" Worry and curiosity blended into a dangerous combination in his voice.

Zack shook his head, planting a disarming smile on his face that he knew wouldn't fool Cloud a bit but was still worth a try. "It's nothing. I'd just forgotten how good with guns you are."

Cloud arched an eyebrow at him—the request for elaboration plain in his eyes. Zack shook his head again, turning away to the racks of uniforms and pulling a grunt one down for himself. "Later. I promise I'll explain, but right now we've gotta get moving."

Cloud nodded. "I'll hold you to it."

A few minutes later, three large packs were stuffed to the bursting point with uniforms and weapons. There was just one small problem.

"None of these will fit Barrett!" Cloud cried in frustration, holding up the fortieth uniform he'd pulled off the racks and shaking it angrily.

Zack gritted his teeth, checking the last rack of uniforms with little results. "I know!" When his search yielded nothing he threw up his hands with an irritated cry followed by a string of incoherent mumbling mostly infused with insults directed at the big rebel leader—"_Why does he have to stand out so much?!"—_but Cloud cut him off, darting past him and reaching for a shelf above the rack Zack had been searching.

The blond couldn't quite reach the white bundle, however, and shot Zack a half-pleading, half-demanding look over his shoulder. Zack figured that now was not the best time to tease Cloud about his lack of height and complied with the blond's silent request, pulling the cloth down from shelf. He blinked in surprise at the incredibly large sailor uniform in his grip before a wicked smirk spread slowly across his face. "I think this will fit Barrett perfectly," he said gleefully.

Cloud shook his head, but a bemused smile crossed his lips briefly. "We should…"

"Get going, yeah," Zack finished, stuffing the uniform into the already full pack.

Cloud nodded and placed the helmet on his head, sealing away his glowing blue eyes. For a moment, Zack paused, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu seeing Cloud in a soldier uniform again. It felt strange, as though all those years in Nibelheim and this whole crazy adventure was just some odd, twisted dream and they were still a part of Shinra—still young, still full of dreams. But the illusion didn't last. Cloud bent and hefted one of the packs onto his back, motioning for Zack to take his own helmet.

"Zack…?"

Zack brushed aside the odd sensations churning through his mind and dredged up another wan smile that he knew didn't reach his eyes. Fortunately, all Cloud could see was the lower half of his face so maybe the smile was convincing.

"I'm ready." He scooped up the helmet and put it on. It took a second to adjust to the strange and limited vision. Helmets really were worthless inventions. "How are you supposed to shoot in this thing?" Zack muttered, hauling a pack off the ground and slinging it over his shoulders.

"It isn't easy." Zack froze. The voice of his friend was different, more confident and at ease. It was a voice Zack hadn't heard in five years and even back then only rarely. The voice of Cloud Strife at his best and most relaxed.

He turned his head slowly, gazing at the blond through wide eyes. Cloud had gone rigid and his lips were parted in stunned surprise, as though he couldn't believe the words he'd just spoken. Zack understood that sentiment. "Cloud…?" He paused, uncertain. Who was he talking to—the boy before Nibelheim or the serious young man of AVALANCHE?

How much did Cloud remember?

"I…" The previous voice was gone and in its place the low, soft, uncertain one Zack was more familiar with. "I'm not sure where that came from." Cloud said at last—hand curling into a fist that shook slightly. "I… it … it just slipped out."

"You … you don't remember?" His chest hurt, like someone had gripped his heart in a vice and was slowly squeezing the life from it.

Cloud shook his head and Zack could almost see the misery in his eyes through the shield of the helmet. "No … not really."

Zack couldn't explain the mixture of disappoint and elation he felt at the statement. He decided not to dwell on it. "I…" He wasn't sure what to say. Sorry didn't seem to cut it and it wouldn't be completely sincere, but what else was there? "I see." He tried to force some sympathy into his voice, but it still sounded flat and cold and grated on his ears.

Cloud looked away with a sigh, ignoring the dull tone. "We should go, right?" His own voice was monotonous and utterly lifeless, but Zack knew not to question it. And like that they moved on, leaving the painful subject behind them yet again. One day they would have to face it, instead of skirting around or dancing away, but not now. There wasn't time now.

Zack ignored the tiny voice in his head that asked _when _they would have time and pulled the door open a crack. "Yeah."

The hallway was empty, though Zack could hear distant shouts and footsteps pounding out a distinctly military rhythm. Breathing a faint sigh of relief, the ex-SOLDIER slipped from the room and headed down the hall in the direction of the service entrance, making sure to stay in the safety of the shadows. Cloud's soft footfalls matched his step for step as they wound their way through the Junon headquarters. They both were acutely aware of how much they stood out with their excessive amount of baggage and often had to press themselves back against the wall or duck into empty closets to avoid patrols. There seemed to be twice as many as normal, which confirmed Zack's suspicion that someone important was here.

He didn't really care who it was, as long as his presence didn't hinder their journey too much.

* * *

Elena frowned at Rufus's reflection in the glass of the large windows—an impressive feature of the opulent Junon office. She seemed to be looking at his reflection a lot in recent days and wished he would just turn around and face her. The glass warped his features too much for her to discern what he was thinking. Judging from the relaxed slump of his shoulders, he was relieved to be alone. Heidegger had insisted on tagging along—probably under the president's orders—and the temperamental man's company had been wearing on them both. During the journey here it had taken every drop of Elena's already limited patience to keep herself from shooting the idiot just to shut him up. And if Rufus's bemused expression was any indication, he wouldn't have minded if she did.

"Elena…" Rufus trailed off with a frown, looking as though he wasn't quite sure what to say. But that couldn't be the case. Rufus Shinra was _never _at a loss for words. Yet the hesitation shone through even the slightly distorted replica of his face in the polished glass.

"Sir?" Elena asked—once again wishing he'd look at her directly without the barrier of glass between them.

She blinked in surprise when he turned slowly, meeting her eyes. If she looked deep enough, she could see the shadow of indecision that was still there, and it startled her. She had been guarding Rufus for a number of years now and had seen the man at his best and close to his worst, but he had never appeared more human than he did now, facing her with downcast eyes and slumped shoulders.

"Do you trust me?" He asked suddenly, looking up at her. The uncertainty was gone, banished by his usual cold confidence, but his voice wasn't demanding or even close to the one he used when issuing commands. It was soft and _human_ and it took her completely by surprise.

"Of course." The answer spilled from her lips without the slightest hesitation. She trusted him completely, having seen far more of his heart that anyone else on the planet. He meant a great deal to her, more than she was willing to admit.

He smiled at her—a warm, sincere smile—and something dark disappeared from his eyes, as though her answer had taken a great burden away from him. "Good." He paused, staring thoughtfully at the carpet. This time, she held her tongue and waited patiently. After a moment of oddly comfortable silence, Rufus spoke again. "I have something I need to ask you…"

They both stiffened at the sound of thunderous, familiar footsteps echoing from beyond the closed door of the office. Rufus's features hardened and Elena gritted her teeth in frustration, suppressing the urge to whip out her gun and fire at the man that barged through the door without even taking the time to knock. The blatant show of disrespect made her blood boil. Her fingers twitched, itching for the smooth grip of her gun, but she held herself in check, watching with narrowed eyes as Heidegger stopped in the center of the office and gave the young vice president a condescending smile. No doubt the man was angry that Rufus had slipped away from him.

"There you are!" He boomed. Elena focused on keeping her mouth from morphing into a threatening scowl. The way the man talked to Rufus was unbelievable—as though the vice president was nothing more than a petulant child. "The ships are almost ready to leave. We need to get going now."

Elena's eyes flickered over to Rufus and instantly noted the steel in his blue eyes. The vice president was not pleased at the interruption and the manner in which he was being addressed, but there was little he could do. Heidegger had great favor with his father and the president would probably side with the head of Urban Development over his own son if an issue should arise. Heidegger didn't bother to hide his smirk and Elena knew the man was well aware of this and relished the vice president's helplessness.

"I'm not finished here. My subordinate and I were discussing something." Rufus kept his voice clipped and controlled. Only someone who knew him as well as Elena did would be able to detect the undercurrent of anger in it.

"What could you possibly be talking to a _Turk_ about that's so important?" The man said the word 'Turk' as though it were a poison—his face twisting like he'd just eaten something foul. Elena almost snarled. Heidegger had caused endless grief for the Turks when he'd briefly taken control of their division, wresting power away from Verdot. Every time she saw the scars on Reno's face—hidden beneath red tattoos—she felt a wave of hatred toward Heideggar that was frightening at times in its intensity.

Rufus seemed to sense the waves of anger rolling off her and she caught his warning glance in her peripheral vision. Forcing herself to relax, she smoothed her features over and forced ice into her gaze. It would do neither of them any good if she exploded here and shot a high-ranking official.

"That is none of your concern," Rufus continued, taking a step forward. Elena didn't miss the way he shifted his weight so he was almost directly in front of her, serving as a human buffer between her and Heidegger.

Heidegger snorted—a look of contempt darkening his already plain features. "Well, we should be going. I'll meet you down at the docks." With that harsh farewell said, the head of Urban Development spun on his heel and strode from the room, slamming the doors closed before Rufus could reply or Elena could wring his neck for his insolence.

For a moment, all Elena could do was stare at the closed door and will her vision to return to normal colors instead of an angry red. She was jolted from her concentration when Rufus touched her arm. It was brief—his fingers trailing quickly over her sleeve before retreating—but she couldn't explain the electric shock she felt at the contact. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Taking a deep breath to steady her reeling emotions, the Turk turned and faced her superior with a skillfully neutral expression. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to get so worked up."

Rufus's eyes were amused and his lips quirked upward in a faint smile. "Not a problem, Elena. I can barely stand the man myself." The smile turned bitter before fading away entirely. "It's no doubt my father sent him to spy on me."

Elena refrained from commenting, knowing well the conflict between the president and his son and that it was best not to get involved. Rufus shook off the shroud of bitterness and sighed, looking tired. "We'll have to talk more later. For now, we shouldn't keep Heidegger waiting. I'd like to avoid any unnecessary conflict."

Elena nodded, straightening slightly. "Yes, sir."

He smiled at her, but it fell short of his eyes. Elena secretly longed for the day when she could see his eyes light up with the power of a real smile. She shoved this wish—along with all her other irrational ones concerning Rufus Shinra—aside and fell into step behind him as he exited the office. Slowly, she let herself sink into a different world where there was just Rufus and any possible threat to his safety—where she was just a Turk, not Elena. It was a complex world, but a surprisingly easy one to handle. The absence of emotion helped tremendously.

But no matter how deeply she immersed herself, a small part of her pondered what Rufus wanted to ask her and why she'd felt like someone had set her on fire when he'd simply brushed her arm.

* * *

Aerith breathed a loud sigh of relief when Zack and Cloud darted into the small alley—dressed in Shinra trooper uniforms and weighed down by several large packs. It was odd, the flower girl decided, seeing Zack with a gun instead of his trademark sword. The helmet only made him more foreign. If he hadn't crouched down beside her and moved his lips in a grin that was so utterly _Zack _she never would have known it was him.

"Hey, we got plenty of stuff," Zack said cheerfully, dropping the bags to the ground. "I hope everything fits."

The group began pulling on uniforms and sailor outfits. Aerith didn't miss the mischievous and slightly gloating smirk Zack shot Barrett when the big man saw the sailor uniform he was being made to wear. He protested loudly and vehemently, but in the end had no choice and grudgingly squeezed himself into the ridiculous outfit, completing the comedic image with the hat that was too small for his head and sat at an odd angle yet somehow stayed in place.

Zack took one look at him and started laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Barrett crossed his arms and glowered at the smaller man. "I don't see what's so funny!"

"You …" Choke. Wheeze. Gasp. "…look like a…" Choke. Wheeze. Wheeze. Gasp. "… bear wearing a marshmallow!" Choke. Choke. Wheeze. Gasp. Gasp.

Tifa snickered once she'd deciphered his garbled sentence, formed around uncontrollable laughter. Aerith hid her smile with her hand but noticed that Cloud and Red both wore tiny smirks of amusement. Barrett, however, was far from amused. He spluttered for a bit, searching for a suitable insult, but nothing could combat the "bear wearing a marshmallow" statement so he resorted to growls and death threats. "Jus' you wait, kid! I'll get you back."

Zack tilted his head and grinned widely—the gesture looking odd with three red circles in place of his dancing eyes. "Point for me," he cackled gleefully.

Barrett growled and cursed some more, but eventually gave up the fight and turned away with a final outraged huff. Zack's attention was turned from tormenting the poor man further to Red XIII, who cleared his throat and asked a rather alarming question. "How am I going to fit into this?"

Everyone paused and exchanged stunned looks, instantly realizing their dilemma. Zack tried to rub the back of his head but was thwarted by the bulky helmet and let his hand fall to his side, gloved fingers drumming a nervous rhythm against his leg. "Shoot, I didn't even think about that."

Red frowned and leveled a disproving stare at Zack, managing to convey his opinion of Zack's intelligence (or lack of) with the simple gesture. The nervous tick in Zack's fingers increased under the pressure of the formidable stare and he gulped softly, cursing himself for not realizing the problem sooner.

"We'll make it work," Tifa said with her usual determination and strode forward, picking the uniform up off the ground. Brushing some strands of hair that had escaped the confines of her loose bun out of her eyes, she held up the outfit in front of Red with a frown, trying to figure out a way to get the creature into it.

"Perhaps I might be able to fit, but my tail will be a problem." Red flicked the tail for emphasis—the fire swaying back and forth from the sudden motion.

Cloud stepped forward, leaning in to examine the tail. "It will burn right through the uniform."

"Maybe we can pass him off as a guard dog?" Zack ventured, chewing his lip in thought.

"That might work." Tifa rocked back on her heels, questioning Red with her eyes.

"I am fine with whatever will get us through the city safely." Red felt grateful that they stopped to see how he would feel about being reduced to a simple pet, if only for a little while. "Personally, that sounds like a much better option than trying to fit into a uniform."

Zack nodded—shoulders slumping forward in relief. "All right. Problem solved. We'll just keep him close to us and hope no one notices too much."

"Everyone's runnin' around so much I doubt they'll care." Barrett finally rejoined the conversation.

"We should split up," Tifa said suddenly, looking around at everyone. "Someone can take the swords and someone can take the pack with all our equipment in it. Less conspicuous that way."

"And someone can take Red," Aerith smiled at the flame-haired creature, who returned the gesture.

"That sounds like a good plan." He glanced out the alley at the flow of traffic in the busy street. "We can regroup at the docks."

"It's settled then," Zack clapped his hands together in a note of finality. "Barrett can take the swords, Aerith and Tifa can go with Red, and Cloud and I will take the pack. Meet at the docks. This can be the signal." He waved with the first three fingers of his hand. "Okay?" Five heads nodded simultaneously in concurrence.

Zack crouched on the cobblestones and drew a rough map in the dirt littering the surface of the street, pointing out the best routes to the docks. It had been almost six years since he'd last seen Junon, but memories of the city, though painful, were clear and vivid. It had been his last mission with Sephrioth before Nibelheim, before the end of everything.

When the group reached a general understanding, they broke their huddle, preparing to disembark. Zack shrugged the pack onto his shoulders and paused with Cloud at the mouth of the alley, turning to give the others one last smile.

"You there!" He stiffened at the gruff voice, eyes widening rapidly behind the helmet. Cloud cringed beside him and the others scrambled back into the concealing shadows as a sergeant marched toward the alley—a furious look evident even through the obstructive helmet.

Zack straightened, but was surprised when Cloud snapped to attention beside him, saluting briskly. "Sir!"

Déjà vu washed over him again. Six and a half years ago Cloud had addressed him in the exact same way in front of a helicopter ready to transport them all to Modeoheim in search of Genesis Rhapsodos. Yes, apparently some habits became so ingrained not even mako and brutal experimentation could strip them away. A nudge from a dirty boot jerked him from his contemplation and he glanced at Cloud, who kicked him gently again. It took him a moment to realizing the sergeant was practically glaring at him and with a gasp, he mimicked Cloud's salute, adding in a "Sir!" of his own and hoping his voice sounded clipped and military enough. He'd never been good at these kind of routines, no matter how often Angeal had lectured him on proper respect.

"What are you two doing?" The sergeant demanded, only slightly appeased by Zack's sudden display of respect. "Where's your squad?"

Zack swallowed—his throat suddenly dry—and cast about hurriedly for some kind of explanation, panic rising with each blank wall he met in his mind. Nothing, he had nothing.

_We're dead._

"We got lost, sir." Zack pressed his lips together tightly to keep himself from gaping at Cloud. How did his best friend manage to blindside him so often?

The sergeant frowned skeptically. "_Really_?"

Cloud nodded. "Yes, sir."

"We were just transferred here from Midgar, sir," Zack leapt in, elaborating the lie. "And because one of the big wigs showed up, we were shoved in a patrol and sent out on the streets."

"Our commander ordered to make sure these alleys are secure."

"But when we got back, they were all gone! We've been wandering around looking for them, sir."

"But we haven't found them yet, sir."

The sergeant still seemed unconvinced, but Zack could tell he was wavering. "Who's your commanding officer?"

Zack's mind blanked again and again, Cloud came to the rescue. "We aren't sure, sir. He shouted it at us when were brought out from the helicopters but we didn't quite catch it and we haven't had a chance to ask again. Sorry, sir."

The sergeant snorted, but they had him. "The incompetence of troopers these days. Fine, you'll join our squad for now. We're heading to the docks. You'd better no get lost!" Again the two rebels could feel the man's glare from beneath the helmet and shifted their weight nervously. Inwardly, Zack cheered at their remarkable luck.

"Yes, sir!" Cloud saluted again and Zack echoed his movements, though with a bit less enthusiasm.

The sergeant snorted again and stalked away. Zack and Cloud scrambled after him, too cautious to risk a glance over their shoulders at the others. Zack just hoped they could find their way through the city without any major problems.

"We'll ditch them at the docks," Zack whispered to Cloud as they joined the squad, keeping toward the back.

Cloud nodded once and turned his gaze ahead, shifting a bit away from Zack in an attempt to further blend in. Zack kept his eyes forward as well, focusing on keeping the elated smile off his face.

This was easier than he expected.

* * *

Ditching the squad turned out to be a lot harder than he first anticipated.

The sergeant watched both he and Cloud like a hawk, yelling at them if they even took one step out of formation. The man wasn't even distracted by the chaos of the docks around them—ships coming and going in an almost endless stream, dozens of passengers arriving and leaving, sailors shouting commands littered with curses at each other as they loaded and unloaded cargo from all over the planet. No, the sergeant seemed solely focused on the task of making his men's lives absolute hell. He screamed at them for the slightest mistake or stumble in footwork and constantly lectured and threatened them about getting "the routine" exactly right or "so help me I'll kill you all."

Zack was starting to get nervous. He couldn't slip away without causing a huge commotion and potentially blowing their cover, but he also had no idea what the routine was the sergeant kept babbling about and if he screwed that up there could also be quite a few consequences. After much inner debate, Zack decided to simply stick with the patrol and see the whole ordeal through to the end. There was always a chance that routine was an easy one and there would be no danger of messing up.

Heh. Right.

They assembled on an expansive stretch of cement dock that was devoid of any other life or cargo. A huge ship rested out on the sea with a ramp extending toward the dock. Zack felt he should recognize it but no memories were forthcoming. He struggled to keep up as the men spread out in some kind of formation and drew their rifles, holding them to their chests at a diagonal angle. Somehow, Zack managed to mimic them in spite of how foreign the gun felt in his hands and how much his stomach was churning.

"Get ready, men! And don't screw this up or …" Zack shut the man out before he could launch into the death threats, his mind skipping over possibilities and explanations for this whole bizarre procedure. One of the higher ups was here and the impressive ship probably belonged to said person, which meant he was probably embarking soon, which meant that they were probably here to see him off.

Zack gulped. _Uh-oh. _

So much for easy.

"Attention!" The troopers stiffened, tightening their grip on their weapons.

Zack glanced down the dock and froze at the man approaching—an unmistakable figure, fat and round in an outlandish green suit with beady eyes and a carefully groomed beard. Heidegger was here. Zack bit back the sudden rush of hot anger. He knew the despicable man well and could never forget all the problems he had caused SOLDIER and the Turks over the years. One particular memory remained burned in his mind with searing intensity: Reno with angry red lines under his eyes—the eyes themselves as dead and empty as glass—and one dull word offered in explanation, "Heidegger."

He forced himself to calm down, knowing attempting to shoot the man wouldn't help their situation.

_Just try not to screw up the drill and go find the others._

Unfortunately, this was easier said then done and he ended up fumbling his was through the drill—acutely aware of the combined glares of Heidegger, the sergeant, and Cloud—who completed the maneuvers with practiced ease. By the time it was over the sergeant had his head in his hands and Heidegger's face was an impressive shade of red. The pompous man stormed through the ranks of troopers and stopped in front of Zack—dark eyes trying to drill holes into him through the protective layers of clothing and a helmet. The ex-SOLDIER drew himself up to his full height and met the man's stare without flinching. He would not be cowed by an ill-tempered idiot when he had faced down the monster Sephiroth became and survived.

Snarling viciously, Heidegger backhanded him twice with considerable force. A fire erupted at the points of contact and rapidly spread across his face as his head whipped to the side from the strength of the blows. He gritted his teeth against the burning pain but did not utter a sound, having suffered far worse at the inhuman hands of Professor Hojo. Beside him, Cloud flinched and clenched his hands into tight fists—anger gathering around him like a black shroud.

"Leave him _alone_," Cloud seethed, startling Zack with the venom in his usually calm voice.

In retaliation, Heidegger turned and struck Cloud so hard the young man stumbled back a step—a faint hiss of pain escaping his lips. "Stupid brat!" Heidegger roared. "How _dare _you talk back to your superiors!"

Zack was livid. He no longer cared if he blew their cover or if he screwed everything up. _No one _hurt his best friend, no one. Heidegger would _pay. _Gripping his forgotten weapon, Zack flicked the safety off and rested his finger against the trigger, fully prepared to shoot the director of Urban Development in the back as Heidegger continued to scream obscenities at Cloud. But a new voice halted the escalating violence with a single word.

"Heidegger." The voice reminded him of Cloud's—soft and low, but more confident and demure than Cloud's had ever been. Startled, he loosened his grip on the gun and pivoted to face the newcomer. His heart thudded loudly in his chest at the man in white who was striding forward with a determined set to his jaw and dark displeasure in his ice eyes.

Rufus Shinra was here.

Heidegger paused, looking far more stunned than Zack, and his skin paled several shades to an almost comical white as his small eyes bulged in his face.

"Vice President Rufus," he stammered, stepping away from Cloud, whose shoulders sagged in tangible relief.

"I need to talk to you," Rufus said simply in a voice so cold Zack could almost feel the blood in his veins freeze. The vice president's displeasure was palpable. Heidegger frowned, but complied to the demand and the two men strode away from the gathering of soldiers, toward the edge of the docks.

Zack edged closer to Cloud, leaning in to whisper in the blond's ear. "Are you all right?" Cloud nodded, but his jaw still clenched in anger. Zack patted his shoulder briefly and glanced back at the ship, catching sight of a blond woman in a trademark black suit. He inhaled sharply, surprised. Even though it had been almost six years since he'd seen her, he'd recognize Elena anywhere. Her hair was longer now, framing her face in a distinctly feminine cut—much different from the cropped hair she'd sported in her early days—but her hazel eyes were still stern and piercing, accenting her beautiful features. She kept her eyes trained on the vice president, only glancing occasionally in the soldiers' direction to search for potential threats.

Though he hadn't worked with her often during his time in SOLDIER, he had admired her and considered her a friend. It felt good, yet strange, to see her now after such a long time. He had to stamp down the odd urge to walk over and say hello.

A shadow moved in the corner of his vision near the beginning of the ramp that connected the ship to the dock. Turning his head slightly, Zack caught sight of a figure crouched in the shadows of the massive door. The solider was mostly hidden in the darkness, but the way he moved seemed familiar. Zack cautiously raised his hand in a three-fingered wave, hoping the trooper was a member of their band. He sighed softly when the soldier returned the gesture and retreated, swallowed completely by the darkness in seconds.

Good, the others were safe. Now he and Cloud just had to board the ship and they'd be one step further away from Shinra's greedy clutches. Heidegger reappeared suddenly—fury etched in every line in his face. He stalked past Zack without looking at him, but his shoulder clipped the ex-SOLDIER's roughly, forcing him to fight for balance. Zack suppressed a growl and settled for glaring balefully at the man's retreating back. Rufus breezed by a second later, nodding briefly in Zack and Cloud's direction before disappearing in a flurry of white and yellow.

Once the vice president and the Turk disappeared inside the ship the sergeant turned to them—furious but too tired for death threats. "Everyone on board," he ordered wearily and hurried up the ramp without a backward glance.

Zack and Cloud followed the others up the ramp and into the bowels of the ship before detaching themselves from the platoon and casually wandering toward the far corner of the large room where another trooper was waiting behind a towering stack of crates. Once they moved around the tower, they saw the other members of their small band huddle together. The trooper pulled off her helmet, letting black hair escape, and Tifa grinned at them.

"Where were you guys? We were starting to worry you'd up and died on us or something."

"Or gotten lost," Barrett quipped.

"Ha. Ha." Zack tugged his helmet off, blinking from the sudden flood of light. "Sorry, we got held up greeting the vice president."

Cloud removed his helmet and ran a hand through his now-flattened spikes. His eyes were still shadowed and held hints of anger. "Yeah, and being abused by Heidegger."

Aerith rose to her feet, hurrying up to them. Her observant eyes lingered on the red staining their cheeks—vicious imprints of Heidegger's large hand. "Are you all right?"

Zack gave her a one-armed hug and a reassuring smile. "We're fine. I screwed up the routine and Heidegger slapped me around a bit. Nothing major."

Aerith frowned—still worried. "You're sure?" Her hand reached and brushed cool fingers over his burning cheek. He leaned into her soothing touch, but kept the smile fixed firmly on his face.

"Yeah. We're fine. Right, Cloud?" Cloud dipped his head in agreement—faint traces of a smile dancing across his lips.

"Yeah, we're okay."

Aerith let the issue go with a long sigh and brief shake of her head. "All right, then."

Zack slid to the floor, leaning his back against one of the large crates. Weariness settled into his bones, weighing him down. It had been quite a day and it was only a little over half finished.

"What do we do now?" Red asked with a quiet thump of his tail and an inquiring glance at Zack.

Zack massaged the skin just above the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in both exhaustion and contemplation. "We lay low," he said softly. "And sneak off in Costa del Sol."

Tifa stretched her back, rolling her shoulders, then exhaled slowly. "We should get some sleep while we can." Murmurs of agreement trailed in the wake of her suggestion. Everyone looked exhausted—dark circles shadowing their eyes and making their skin seem far more pallid than normal.

"We look like zombies or somethin'," Barrett grunted.

Zack laughed humorlessly. "I _feel _like a zombie."

Tifa traced a pattern on the fabric of her pants with one finger. "It's been five days since the plate fell."

Grim silence stole over the group as eyes darkened with pain.

"It feels like so much longer than that," Aerith murmured at last.

"It feels like it's been forever," Zack added with a frown.

"Do you think we'll ever be able to stop running?" Aerith asked, glancing around at all the tired, drawn faces.

A long, heavy silence followed her question. It was Zack who answered almost a full minute later. "I don't know."

And in that simple statement lay all the doubts and fears they hoped would never become reality.

Silence resumed and stretched on, enveloping them all in its smothering embrace. They didn't fight its reign. There was simply nothing else to say.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a proposition and yet another city by the sea.

* * *


	21. XX: One Step Forward

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, this is an interesting chapter. I know I mentioned Costa del Sol in the sneak peak for the last chapter. Before, I was planning to have nothing happen on the ship and skip right to Costa del Sol, but then this idea hit me like a bolt of lightning and this chapter came out of nowhere. Heh. But, I'm sure you guys will like it. It's a darker and a bit sadder chapter than previous ones, but with plenty of suspense. :D **

**For those of you who I haven't replied to, I promise I will get to responding to your reviews soon. Been busy writing this. :3 Thanks to the wonderful people who reviewed! You guys are the reason this story has made it to twenty-one chapters. XD **

**Well, I won't keep you. Brace yourself for the angst and review! I'd love to hear what you think. **

* * *

_Ugh._

Fingers curled tightly around the railing and the metal felt cool against his hot cheek. His throat burned and the taste of acid coated his tongue and the walls of his mouth, making his stomach clench again. He leaned forward quickly, almost throwing himself over the side of the ship, and coughed up more bile, choking as the contents of his stomach left a horrible taste in his mouth. With a weary sigh, the blond rested his head back on the railing again and idly wondered how long it would before he was dry heaving. He hadn't eaten very much food, surely his stomach would run out of things to throw up soon.

Why was he so sick? Everyone else seemed to be fine.

After about an hour, the ship had hit rough seas and Cloud had felt butterflies come awake in his stomach, soon it was churning and roiling as bad as the ocean and the blond found himself by the railing, vomiting into the murky sea.

_Ugh. _

It was more than just his stomach. He couldn't understand the clammy feeling of his skin or the way he couldn't seem to stop shaking. Every time he turned his head too quickly the world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and whenever he stayed on his feet for a decent amount of time black spots danced across his eyes. Once or twice, he'd come close to passing out.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he didn't have to turn to know who it was. A concerned voice spoke a few seconds later, raised to carry over the roar of the sea wind. "You okay, buddy?"

Cloud pushed himself off the railing, willing his jelly legs to cooperate, and slowly did an about face so he was looking directly at Zack. His friend's bulky helmet obscured his eyes, but Cloud saw the tight frown and knew Zack was worried about him, as usual. He tried to pull himself upright, but his body wouldn't comply and he ended up slipping on the slick deck. Zack caught him before he hit the ground and braced him gently—one arm tight around his waist to keep him upright.

Cloud bit his lip to hold in a moan as the black spots reappeared, nearly blinding him. His skin felt like ice and he shivered uncontrollably, body wracked with tremors he couldn't seem to prevent. He could feel Zack's anxiety like a physical thing, hovering in the air around them, but when he tried open his mouth and offer words of reassurance nothing would come except a raspy cough.

"Cloud?" Zack sounded alarmed. Why? Something felt warm against his freezing skin. Reaching up a shaking hand, Cloud wiped his hand across his lips. When he drew it away, a sticky red substance coated the black leather—blood.

_Oh. _

What was wrong with him? It was all so sudden. Everything had been absolutely fine, but now he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Was this what dying felt like? He tried to speak again, but his voice was just a croak and a bit more blood trickled down his chin. Zack's grip tightened, squeezing his ribs, and the tension in the air hummed loud and strong. When Cloud turned his head, he could barely make out Zack's face and the worry etched into his visible skin.

"I'm taking you inside. You're burning up!" Now, Zack sounded close to panicking.

Burning up? How could he be burning up when he was so cold? None of this made sense. Cloud nodded, feeling his vision blur from the simple motion. Zack started forward, but when Cloud attempted to move his feet to follow they remained stubbornly rooted to the deck. Zack ended up dragging him forward a few steps, but halted swiftly when Cloud managed to groan in protest.

"C-can't." His voice finally started working, allowing him to choke out a single, stuttering word.

Fortunately, Zack understood. "Okay, buddy. I'm gonna carry you."

Before Cloud could protest, one of Zack's hands moved up to just beneath his arms, while the other reached down and scooped his legs, lifting him bridal style into his friend's arms. The world tilted at an odd angle, blurring into a stream of bright colors, and bile crept up his throat. He clamped his lips together, refusing to throw up on his friend. This whole situation felt awkward and weird, but only a small part of him cared enough to be frustrated at his inability to walk on his own. The rest was rapidly descending into darkness.

Right before he succumbed, he thought he heard Zack mutter in his ear. "I don't get it. With all that mako in you, you shouldn't be getting sick."

Mako? What was mako? He didn't understand, but before he could ask for clarification from Zack, the black spots grew, enveloping his entire vision as the world fell away and he passed into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

Rufus closed the door gently and locked it before turning to face the confused Turk standing in the middle of the small storage room. Elena had one eyebrow arched at him in an expression demanding an explanation for his uncharacteristic and decidedly odd behavior. Rufus sighed, realizing this was going to be much harder than he first anticipated. Something about Elena made him nervous lately, though he couldn't understand why. He and Elena had known each other for going on seven years and he had never been anxious in her presence before. It must have been the enormity of what he was about to ask her and the large amount of trust this whole business required.

Rufus Shinra had never been one to trust easily.

But he needed Elena on his side so just this once he would stick his neck out and hope he didn't lose his head.

"Sir?" He glanced up from the floor and barely hid his surprise when he found Elena less than a foot away from him, assessing him with a mixture of apprehension and concern.

Jerking himself away from his thoughts, Rufus straightened and brushed a few specks of imaginary dust off his white jacket, struggling to regain his composure. "Right, now, there's something I need to talk to you about and I doubt Heidegger will look for us in here."

Elena's lips quirked up in a brief smile as she glanced around at the piles of crates gathering dust and the lamp that swung from the ceiling like a pendulum, casting erratic shadows on the walls, floor, and ceiling. He supposed this was all rather amusing. He himself felt like a teenager sneaking off for some kind of special rendezvous. Only this wasn't about seeing a girl or smoking with friends, or anything else teenagers occupied themselves with. No, the fate of the world probably rested on the discussion that was about to take place.

_So focus._

"Yes, I doubt Heidegger is smart enough to check a closest," Elena remarked dryly.

Rufus nodded. "Exactly." He allowed himself a tiny smile, but nothing more. It was hardly a time for jokes. "Now…"

The smile slid from Elena's face quickly as she assumed a professional demeanor, morphing into Elena of the Turks. "What do you want to talk to me about, sir?"

Rufus swallowed, suddenly uncertain of where to begin. Finally, he decided the only way was to jump in head first. Hopefully, he wouldn't drown. "You said you trusted me, correct?"

Elena nodded, but remained silent, tactfully waiting for him to continue.

"Well, if you had to choose between my father or me, who would you follow?" He knew it was a difficult question—one he should never ask her. Turks were bound by absolute loyalty to the president of the company and following the orders of anyone else was considered the highest treason.

Elena's answer, if heard by the wrong people, could cost her life.

The Turk hid her surprise well—only a slight widening of her hazel eyes gave her away. For a long moment, she said nothing and refused to meet his eyes, staring off into space with intense focus. Rufus waited with bated breath, trying to ignore how constricted his lungs felt—as though they were gripped in a fist of iron. He couldn't breathe and wouldn't be able to until she gave him her answer.

At last, she looked at him, and he saw it in her eyes before she spoke. "You."

He didn't allow himself to relax, not just yet. "Even if it meant betraying the company?"

Her answer came twice as fast with barely any hesitation at all. Her eyes were steely and determined, allowing no emotion to rise to the surface. "Yes."

He was momentarily overwhelmed by a ludicrous urge to hug her. He crushed it with vehemence, refusing to think about what it might mean, and kept his emotions in check, letting her see none of the relief that made his knees weak. "Good."

"Why, sir?" Her eyes bore into him, searching his soul.

He took a step closer to her, lowering his voice several notches—a flimsy protection against eavesdropping, but the only thing he had. "I am planning to overthrow the company."

A wave of shock washed through her eyes, shattering her cool demeanor until she was just Elena again and all traces of the rigid Turk were gone. Her lips moved but no sound accompanied it and once more Rufus had to force himself to maintain his distance and let her recover on her own. It only took a minute to put the mask back in place, though there were still cracks in it, and reclaim her voice.

"For what purpose?"

Rufus looked up at the swaying lamp, watching the shadows dance and weave across the ceiling. "The Planet is dying. Shinra is killing it. Soon, there will be nothing left unless someone stops them."

Elena frowned. "Isn't that what AVALANCHE is trying to accomplish?"

Rufus's face was grim in the irregular light when he fixed his gaze back on her. "They can't do it alone."

"So you are going to help them?" Elena's eyes revealed nothing of her thoughts, much to Rufus's frustration.

"Yes." He kept his voice even, displaying a calm he didn't feel.

"And you need the Turks—the president's best defense—on your side." It wasn't a question, but he still answered.

"Yes. As many will join. I need not only your protection, but your skills in espionage and covert operations. This is hardly going to be easy."

Elena's chuckle held a biting edge to it. "No kidding."

She paused and then took a hesitant step forward, closing the gap between them to half a foot. Her hand, slightly unsteady, reached out and hovered over his sleeve for a moment before jerking away and closing into a fist. Rufus didn't realize he had stopped breathing until his lungs burned faintly in a demand for oxygen. He tried to keep his eyes at their normal size, but could feel them widening at Elena's strange actions. In all his years of knowing her, the female Turk had maintained a strict distance from everyone.

"Elena?" His voice sounded shaky and uncertain even to his own ears.

She snapped to attention, retreating behind her walls, and stared at a spot somewhere on the wall behind him. "I'll follow you, sir."

He, too, threw his walls up, donning the visage of vice president once more. Extending a hand, he forced as much confidence into his voice as possible. "Agreed, then?"

Elena shook his hand—one brief pump—and backed up a few steps. "We should leave, sir. Before Heidegger comes looking."

And that was that. They strode from the room as though nothing had happened, nothing had changed. Only a glance between them—mirror gazes full of churning emotion—shattered the illusion. _Everything _had changed. They'd taken one step forward, into uncharted waters, but at least they'd done it together.

Rufus had never been more grateful for Elena's presence at his shoulder.

* * *

Zack tried to reign in his mounting terror before it completely overwhelmed him. Cloud felt like lead in his arms and he couldn't stop thinking about how the blond still trembled and shook after he had lapsed into unconsciousness. He looked like a corpse with his sheet white skin.

Or a doll with a cruel master yanking on its limbs, making them spasm.

He shivered, focusing on the rise and fall of Cloud's chest as he carried his friend back into the depths of the ship in search of Aerith. Cloud was breathing and his heart was beating. Alive, he was alive. The stairs were slick with salt water as Zack descended, pressing one shoulder against the equally damp wall to keep himself from falling. Even with his heightened abilities, Cloud's weight offset his balance enough to be dangerous.

After a few agonizing minutes, Zack reached the bottom of the steep stairs and broke into a run, trying not to jostle Cloud too much but desperate to find Aerith. She would know what was wrong. She could fix Cloud.

He rounded the bend and entered the large loading bay where AVALANCHE had made their camp. Only Aerith and Red were sitting behind the large stack of crates. Barrett and Tifa were somewhere on the ship attempting to blend in. The flower girl and red-haired creature glanced up in surprise when Zack skidded around the boxes so fast he nearly tripped. Then, they saw Cloud's shaking body and their expressions rapidly morphed into alarm.

Aerith scrambled to her feet and hurried over to Zack, peering at Cloud anxiously.

"What happened?" She gasped, helping Zack lower the blond to the ground and placing a hand on his ashen cheek while Zack pulled the helmet from his head, exposing closed eyes and matted, sweat-soaked hair. Then, the ex-SOLDIER wrenched his own helmet off, brushing slick bangs out of his eyes.

Zack shook his head, pushing Cloud's hair back from his forehead. Cloud's skin was searing and Zack felt like screaming in fear and frustration. "He was fine!" He cried, lowering his head so Aerith couldn't see the storm of emotions tearing him apart. He didn't want her to worry more than she already was. "And then I found him at the rail throwing up. He couldn't stand upright and he was shivering and then he started coughing up blood and passed out."

"He has a really high fever and chills," Aerith murmured, sliding into healing mode.

Zack's teeth punctured his lower lip and a small stream of blood trickled down his chin. He wiped it away hurriedly. "This shouldn't be happening. SOLDIERs shouldn't get sick."

Aerith glanced up at him with a frown. "Because of the mako?"

Zack nodded. "Yeah. I mean, he had mako poisoning for a while but he's been fine for almost three months now." Frustration contorted his face. "And the symptoms aren't the same."

Aerith's eyes searched his soul knowingly, begging for an elaboration on the events Zack had hinted at. Zack ignored the pleading stare. Now wasn't the time. He wasn't ready. Aerith seemed to understand and turned her gaze back to Cloud. Zack felt a wave of gratefulness rush through him, making him reach out and squeeze her hand gently.

How had ever ended up with someone as wonderful as Aerith?

"We need to cool him down." The concerned note in Aerith's voice harshly reminded him of the situation at hand, punctuated by a soft groan of pain from Cloud. The blond's eyes flew open suddenly and he jerked, coughing violently.

Zack's heart clenched when blood bubbled to Cloud's lip, pouring down his cheek in a small waterfall of crimson. Aerith's hands shot out to steady Cloud as he continued to shake and cough, paroxysms wracking his small frame. Zack fought back the tears welling in his eyes as memories of a dark lab and Cloud—sick, broken, coughing, _dying—_battered him.

"Easy," Aerith soothed, stroking his back. "We've got you, Cloud."

Cloud clenched his eyes shut, but not before Zack noticed they were glowing several hues brighter than normal. And there was green in them.

"H-h-hurts," the blond hiccupped between coughs.

Zack almost screamed. _It's not the same. It's not. Aerith's here. You're free. There's no Hojo. Cloud's going to be okay. We're safe. Not the same. Not…_

"Where?" Aerith asked Cloud, cradling him against her. "Where does it hurt?"

"E-everywhere. I-in-inside." Aerith and Zack exchanged puzzled frowns over Cloud's cryptic answer. "C-cold." Cloud whispered.

"We should find something to cover him." Zack twisted to glance at Red, who watched the ordeal from a few feet away. He looked as calm as always, but Zack thought he saw a glimpse of worry flash though the creature's good eye.

"We need to bring his fever down," Aerith said urgently.

"Cold compress?" Red asked.

Aerith nodded. "Yes."

Zack ran and hand through his hair in frustration. "How are we supposed to find that? We don't want to attract attention to ourselves."

Cloud suddenly convulsed roughly in Aerith's arms—a cry of pain tearing from his lips. His eyes flew open wide again and Zack recoiled. They were almost completely green—a horrible, familiar green. He _knew _those eyes and they shouldn't be in Cloud's face.

_No… Sephiroth? _

Aerith pressed the distressed blond as close as possible, whispering to him in what almost sounded like another language. After a minute, the green faded and Cloud sagged in her grip—chin hitting his chest as he sank back into oblivion. The three other occupants of the room let out a collective sigh of relief.

"He's still hot," Aerith murmured, feeling Cloud's forehead. "We need that cold compress and some blankets to lay him on."

"I would offer to find some, but I do not think I should wander around the ship." Red looked frustrated at his helplessness.

Zack took a deep breath, still shaken by what he had seen. "Yeah. I'll go. You just stay here and protect Aerith and Cloud for me, kay, Red?"

Red bowed his head briefly in agreement and sank down next to Aerith. Zack staggered to his feet and placed the helmet back over his head, sealing his storm-filled eyes away. "I'll be back soon."

Aerith rocked Cloud back and forth gently as she glanced up at him with imploring eyes. "Hurry."

Zack stumbled away from them further into the ship, struggling to get his mind to focus on the matters at hand. Instead of obeying, it kept flicking back to green eyes staring out of Cloud's face until Zack was shaking with horror.

_I was seeing things. I had to have been. _

He couldn't face the consequences that might come if those eyes had been real.

* * *

"_WARNING! This simulation is highly dangerous and not recommended for solo runs! WARNING! This simulation is highly dangerous and not recomm—"_

A hand slammed down on the control panel, overriding the annoying voice. "Shut up," the redhead muttered, pressing more buttons with deft fingers. "I know what I'm doing."

Anyone else would have begged to differ, but Reno was alone and no one was present to question his judgment … or his sanity.

The Turk rolled his damaged shoulder gently as he strode to the center of the simulation room, feeling the throbbing ache beginning to fade. It was healing remarkably well thanks to Shinra's advanced medical techniques and a little materia. He would be back on duty in only a few days, but currently it was time for a trial run.

Overhead, the lights faded, letting shadows consume the large room. Reno unfolded his EMR and checked the wrist band, making sure the weapon was secured tightly. A small smile of anticipation tugged his lips upward as a different world began to build around him rapidly. Buildings rose up from the floor, a dark sky formed high above him while thunder boomed, promising rain, and a chill wind swept across his face, piercing him through his flimsy suit. On all sides, enemies materialized, carrying weapons of all shapes and sizes. Guns, swords, EMRs, shields—the list was endless.

The soldiers filled the space to the brim, crouching on rooftops and in alleys, fanning out around the open square and down the visible streets. The sound of clanking and clicking weapons drowned out the distant thunder, rising into a cacophony that threatened to shatter his eardrums.

The ominous picture was complete when two helicopters rose up from behind the buildings, circling like giant birds of prey while their spotlights locked on the Turk in the midst of the chaos, marking him a target for every soldier to see.

A mechanical voice flooded the square, calmly stating words that could be the death of him. "_Mission: start_."

Reno smiled bitterly and the world collapsed into a whirlwind of turmoil.

* * *

"How long has he been like this?!"

"Zack brought him down here about thirty minutes ago."

"But we're not sure how long he was sick before that."

Tifa fell to her knees beside Cloud, pulling her gloves off so she could feel his forehead. She yanked her hand back swiftly, a startled hiss slipping from between her teeth. "He's burning up!"

Aerith ran her fingers through Cloud's hair—tangled and slick with sweat. A fine sheen coated his flesh and dampened his clothes, yet his skin remained deathly pale—with the exception of his flushed cheeks—and he shivered like he was stuck in a blizzard.

Barrett hovered over the group, wringing his small sailor hat to shreds in his hands. "Man, kid looks like a ghost or somethin'."

"When will Zack be back?" Tifa asked anxiously.

Aerith sighed and shifted her weight cautiously so Cloud, whose head rested on her lap, wasn't jostled too badly. "He left twenty minutes ago."

Tifa let out an irritated growl and shot to her feet. "I'll go look for him!"

"No need," a tired voice answered. Zack rounded the corner and slid behind the crates, carrying a large bowl of ice water, several towels, and a blanket. "I'm here. Sorry, guys."

"You are all right?" Red asked, sitting up.

Zack nodded, handing the bowl to Tifa and sinking to his knees between Red and Aerith. "Yeah. Just a lot of sneaking around and dodging questions." Troubled eyes latched onto Cloud's face. "How is he?"

"No change." Aerith slipped her arms beneath Cloud's, pushing the flaccid blond upright. With Zack's help, Cloud was transferred to Tifa's lap and the flower girl dipped a towel in the ice water, soaking it thoroughly. She placed it on the upper part of Cloud's face so that it covered his forehead and eyes. Cloud jolted awake at the sudden cold and tried to pull himself away.

Tifa gripped his shuddering shoulders and massaged them gently in an attempt to pacify him. "It's okay, Cloud. Just calm down."

Slowly, he obeyed, going lax. "T-Tifa?"

"Yeah?" Tifa maintained her hold on Cloud's shoulders, assuring him of her presence.

"Z-Zack he-here, too?"

Zack leaned forward, taking Cloud's hand. "Yeah, buddy. I'm right here."

Cloud sighed in relief and feebly squeezed Zack's hand. "G-good."

"You're safe," Aerith added in. "We're all here."

Cloud barely acknowledged her words and tried to sit up, drawing closer to Zack. "Z-Zack, saw f-fire. P-pain. _Hate. _So h-horrible."

Zack choked, clutching Cloud's hand so tightly the blond hissed in protest. "Anything else?"

"G-green," Cloud muttered, leaning back and letting Aerith adjust the cloth on his face. "So much green."

Zack felt sick. He wanted to collapse in bitter heap because all this was supposed to be _over. _Sephiroth, Nibelheim, all of it—dead, finished, behind them in the past where it belonged. After all they'd suffered didn't they deserve to be left alone? To get on with their lives?

_Why?! Why us? Why now? _

He didn't know the answer and he probably never would.

He could feel the perplexed gazes of the others and Cloud's fingers curled around his again, desperately pleading for reassurance he wasn't sure he could give. He mustered a smile up from his bleeding heart and plastered it on his face. "All that's over, Cloud. You're safe. Don't worry."

"Safe." Cloud repeated, beginning to fade again. "I'm safe."

Then he was asleep and there was nothing but weighty silence.

And then: "What was Spiky goin' on about?"

"What did he mean by fire, Zack?"

"Was he talking about what happened to you guys?"

"I do not understand. Did you and Cloud go through some kind of trauma?"

Zack backed away, waving his hands to ward off the barrage of questions. "Enough!" His voice was harsh and somewhat pleading with enough emotion packed into the single word to force the inquisitive group back into shocked silence. But their gazes still pressed on him, demanding answers he _didn't _want to give. Not yet.

_Too soon! This is too soon._

"Five years ago," he whispered, "a lot of horrible things happened because of Shinra. That's all I can say right now."

"C'mon, kid!" Barrett glared at him in blatant annoyance. "Quit hidin' things from us!"

Zack shook his head, anger igniting blue fire in his gaze. "No. You don't understand! You can't _possibly_ understand! I'm not ready to tell it and you're not ready to hear it so for now just leave me _alone!" _

They blanched, looking startled by his outburst. It was Aerith who moved first, rising to her feet. She glanced at the others with an apologetic but stern expression. "Can you guys give me and Zack some time alone?"

Barrett looked ready to protest, but Tifa gently laid Cloud on the deck, lunged forward, grabbed his arm, and began to drag him away, jamming her helmet back onto her head as they went. "Come on, Barrett. Let's go check out the ship some more."

Barrett's curses trailed behind them until they were obscured by the clang of their boots on the metal stairs. Red rolled his good eye and followed them, heading in the direction of one of the smaller rooms. "I will be over there should you need me," he said over his shoulder.

Aerith gave him a pained smile. "Thanks, Red."

When she turned back to Zack, she found him seated on the floor, pulling the blanket over Cloud and folding one of the towels into a cushion for his head. His bangs concealed his eyes, but she could imagine the agony and aggravation in them. With a soft sigh, Aerith crossed the few feet separating them and did the same thing she had five and a half years ago: knelt behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He shook beneath her and her heart ached as she pressed her cheek against his.

"Love you," she murmured gently. "So much."

He lowered his head further, curling up on himself. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Aerith leaned in closer, refusing to let him escape. "You just need more time."

"Yeah," he whispered in a broken voice. "More time. Sorry."

"Oh, Zack," Aerith felt tears deluge her eyes, obscuring her vision. "It's okay, silly. None of us can force you to do anything. I know you'll tell us when you're ready."

"Is he … going to be okay?"

She glanced up briefly at Cloud's still form. A bit of color was returning to his pallid skin. "Yeah. He's going to be fine, Zack. The worst is over."

"That's what I thought before…" Zack mumbled so softly she barely caught the words.

She knew now was hardly the time for more pressing questions and pretended she hadn't heard. After pregnant pause, he spoke again. "Love you."

She smiled tearfully at his aching, heartfelt tone and kissed his cheek, right over his x-shaped scar. "I know."

* * *

Reno panted, struggling to draw enough oxygen into his heaving lungs as the now blood-soaked world around him dissolved into green and black particles. Soon it was just him and the battered training room.

"Reno."

And Tseng.

Reno frowned, keeping his eyes on the far wall. He had nothing to say to Tseng, nothing at all. He could hear Tseng's footsteps approaching and his fingers curled instinctively around his EMR as aching muscles coiled in preparation for attack. His arm and side screamed in protest to the small movement but the redhead stubbornly gritted his teeth and ignored it. Tseng stopped a few feet behind him and made a noise of displeasure at the bloodstains marring Reno's jacket.

"You're going to kill yourself." Ice coated his words.

Reno seethed. "So? Why would you care?"

"Reno…" Now Tseng's voice was just sad.

"I deserve it," Reno spat, still refusing to look at his leader.

"No," Tseng ground out, "you don't. You were just following orders."

Now, Reno pivoted, pinning Tseng with a callous stare. "We've been over this before! A hundred times! I killed probably close to a thousand people, if not more, because the president said so!"

Tseng stared at the ground, shoulders slumped in uncharacteristic defeat. "You didn't know. It was my fault."

Reno started at this, blinking at the head of the Turks in open surprise. "Are you trying to apologize?"

Tseng hesitated briefly. Then: "Elena told me, Reno."

Reno flinched as though he'd been struck and backed up a few steps, staring at Tseng with something very close to horror. "You know? And she knows? How…?"

Tseng looked up with guilty eyes. "Yes. We found out from the doctor. When you were injured."

Reno growled under his breath. "So what are you going to do? Turn me in?" He laughed bitterly. "Good. Maybe then he'll have me executed. You know, put me out of my misery."

Tseng almost cringed. _Almost. _"No. I'm not going to say anything."

"Fine," Reno spat. "It won't be long anyway."

"So you're going to just let yourself die?!" Tseng cried, anger creeping into his tone.

Another bitter, broken laugh. "What is else is there to do? It's not like I can fix it."

"Have you told any of the others?" Now it was Reno's turn to balk.

"No." He turned his head away. "They'll find out soon enough."

"When you're dead?" Tseng guessed acrimoniously.

Reno looked back at him with a mirthless smile. "Something like that."

"Reno!"

Reno glared with frosty eyes. "Just leave it be, _boss. _It's better this way."

Tseng stiffened and took a deep breath, ready to give Reno a lecture he wouldn't soon forget. But before he could utter a single word, the door hissed open, letting Rod and Cissnei through. Both Turks stopped with identical looks of confusion and surprise. Reno nodded once in greeting and strode past them, walking with a slight limp he couldn't disguise.

"Go to the infirmity and get those wounds re-bandaged!" Tseng called after him.

"Sure thing, boss." It dripped with sarcasm, but at least it was reply.

"Sir?" Rod ventured hesitantly.

"You saw nothing," Tseng ordered sternly.

The two nodded. "Right, sir, nothing."

Tseng followed Reno at a much faster pace, disappearing around the corner. Once he was gone, Rod and Cissnei exchanged worried glances.

"This is killing him," Cissnei said softly.

Rod shook head, brushing brown bangs out of his eyes. "It's killing them both."

Cissnei chuckled darkly. "Maybe, it's killing us all."

They stood in contemplative, sorrowful silence for a moment before Rod turned to his female companion with a challenging smirk. "Bet I can beat more guys than you."

Cissnei pounced on the offered distraction, hiding her enthusiasm with a scoff. "Yeah, right."

Rod strode over to the control panel and began pushing buttons. "Well, we'll find out."

The room began to change again as the two Turks readied their weapons, eyes gleaming with the thrill of a contest.

_"Mission: start." _

They threw themselves into the lethal dance, leaving their worry and pain far behind.

* * *

_Knock. Knock. _

"Enter," the president of Shinra called from his place slouched over his desk.

The massive doors to his office swung open slowly for a tall blonde in glittering red. She floated into the room and stopped right in front of his desk. He glanced up at her briefly before turning his attention back to his paperwork.

"We've found it."

The paper fluttered from his fingers and he lurched out of his chair, giving the smirking woman his full attention. "What?"

Her smirk grew and her eyes gleamed with dark elation. "We've found it."

The president laughed gleefully, coming around his desk to grip the blonde's hands in a crushing grip. "This is wonderful news!" He cried. But his euphoria only lasted a few brief moments. "But we need the Ancient. We can't make it work without her." He dropped her hands and glowered at his desk.

Scarlet smiled in reassurance and smooth confidence. "We'll find her. They can't hide forever."

The ecstatic light filled his eyes again and he laughed once more. "Yes. It's only a matter of time." He ambled over to the small bar running along one wall of his opulent office and pulled out two glasses. "For now, join me for a glass of champagne."

Scarlet came to his side, watching as he poured the liquid into the glasses, filling them to the brim. "Of course."

He handed one to her, which she accepted gracefully, and raised the other in an exuberant toast. "To victory!"

Scarlet smirked. "To victory."

The glasses clinked together softly, condemning the world.

* * *

**Coming up next--**Wark?


	22. XXI: Beaches and Chocobos

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, finally an update. This last week has been hectic and I've had zero time to write. Finally, I sat down on Sunday and wrote like mad until this was done. I hope it's not too rushed and flows well. Not much really happens in the chapter. It's more of a transition chapter and it jumps forward quite a lot. I refuse to write out every leg of their journey. That would take days and more pages than I care to count. As it is, this thing stands at 18 pages. 0.o Oh, and I hope the Zack/Aerith moment is not too sappy and the ending isn't too random. :D**

**Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you all read. And review! **

* * *

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Tifa twisted the end of her uniform sweater anxiously, stretching the dark blue fabric to almost twice its normal size, as she watched the blond on the ground in front of her. It had been hours and Cloud still lay swathed in blankets and cold towels, limp and motionless—a corpse with porcelain skin. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest and occasional toss of his head or shift of his body reminded her he was still alive. So she watched him breathe, listening to the steady, comforting rhythm, and tried not to think about what losing him would mean.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

He couldn't die now. She'd lost her father, her friends, and her home, but for some reason she knew losing him would be the blow that killed her. Through all those rough years in Midgar, trying to get back on her feet and forge a new life from the smoldering ashes of her old one, she'd clung to the small, ever-fading hope that somewhere Cloud still lived. He was the last tie to her past and the memories others claimed weren't even real. In a strange, indirect way, Cloud Strife had kept her alive and sane.

"You're not allowed to die," she whispered to him, reaching out a hand that shook more than she cared to admit to wipe his damp bangs off his forehead. His skin was cooler now—the fever almost gone—and she was thankful for that small blessing.

Now if only he would just open his—

Eyelashes fluttered a few times before his eyes slowly began to open, revealing sky-streaked orbs. Tifa bit back a gasp and leaned closer, hovering over him like an anxious mother hen. Her breath hitched as she got a closer look at his eyes. There was a recognition in them that went deeper than the mere month they had known each other. It spoke of a boy and a village and a friend she had lost before she found.

" "T-Tifa?" Even his voice was different—a little younger. It was the boy's. The boy who had sat on the well and said good-bye to her with stuttering but heartfelt words.

"Cloud?" She croaked, addressing this specter of her past with both amazement and terror.

Cloud blinked and the boy was gone, leaving behind the tired, haunted young man she'd come to know. The mixture of disappointment and relief that bloomed within her was sharp and painful. For a minute, she'd looked everything she'd lost in the eye and it hurt.

"Tifa?" Cloud asked again in a more familiar voice.

Tifa sighed and managed to cobble together a wobbly smile. "I'm glad you're awake."

His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings with growing confusion. "Where am I?"

"The ship, remember?" She felt fear run cold down her spine. Please, he had to remember. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't.

His eyes cleared with understanding. "Right…" He raised his head a little to glance down at the blankets cocooning him like a mummy. "Wha—?"

Tifa's smile came easier this time. "Sorry, you had chills so we wrapped you up."

Cloud's head hit the makeshift pillow and he coughed weakly, closing his eyes again. "Oh."

Tifa gently loosened the blankets around him and placed another cool cloth on his forehead, knowing she should alert the others but unwilling to leave his side. "You were really sick. We've all been worried."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Didn't want to worry anyone."

"It's fine." She rocked back on her heels with another sad smile. "It was hardly your fault."

Cloud opened his eyes again, regarding her from behind half-closed lids heavy with sleep. "Thanks, Tifa." His lips moved into the shadow of a smile that warmed her heart.

She returned it and slowly rose to her feet. "Wait right here, I'll go get the others. They'll want to know you're awake."

Cloud didn't look pleased at the idea of so much attention focused on him, but he said nothing, merely sagged back into the blankets again with a tired sigh. Tifa left him at a fast jog, loath to leave him alone for too long. She took the stairs to the deck two at a time and quickly spotted Zack standing guard and a grumbling, cursing Barrett swabbing the deck.

Pulling out her rifle and trying to look professional Tifa made her way over to Zack and tapped him on the shoulder. Zack turned quickly and tilted his head in question. Tifa raised three fingers in a small wave—the signal—and the ex-SOLDIER immediately relaxed. "Cloud?"

Tifa nodded. "He's awake. Come quickly."

"Find Aerith. She's around here somewhere. I'll tell Barrett." Zack gestured at the disgruntled rebel.

"Okay. Meet you below." Zack nodded once and hurried toward Barrett.

Tifa found Aerith further up the massive deck, near the bridge. She expressed relief that Cloud had finally woken up, but worry over his lingering illness as well and began walking toward the stairs before Tifa even finished giving her information, calling back over her shoulder. "Let's go see him."

Tifa shook her head with a bemused smile and rushed after the surprisingly fast flower girl.

* * *

The rough surface of the deck scratched his metal knee guards as he crashed down next to his friend. Cloud's eyes jerked open wide at the sudden noise and he blinked several times in a struggle to focus. Zack held back the flood of relief that rushed through him at the simple sight. For too long he had stared at glazed, glass eyes set in an ashen face. They haunted him in his dreams and he still battled the fear that one day he would look over and see those eyes in Cloud's face again.

"Zack?" Cloud murmured, sounding tired but surprisingly alert.

Zack shook himself free of dark memories and tugged off his helmet. "You're awake."

Barrett's large hand landed on his shoulder and Red appeared suddenly at his side. "Hey, Spiky! Welcome back to the land of the livin'!"

"Cloud, I am glad that you are all right."

Cloud smiled weakly at them. "Thanks."

Zack fisted one hand in the fabric of his pants. "You had us worried, buddy."

"Yeah," Cloud's eyes darkened. "Tifa said the same thing. Sorry."

"Not your fault, Cloud." Zack patted his friend's shoulder and tried hard to forget the green, familiar eyes.

"Yeah, Spiky. It ain't like you tried to get sick or nothin'. Just dropped like a rock, man." Barrett shook his head and frowned at the memory of Zack's panicked face and Cloud's limp body. Those kids were obviously close, very close, and the death of one would most likely kill the other. It was something he never wanted to witness.

Suddenly, Aerith appeared, followed closely by Tifa. The healer shouldered her way past Barrett and Red and knelt next to Zack, pulling the helmet from her head. "Hey, Cloud."

Cloud gave her a wan smile. "Hi."

She lifted the cloth from his forehead and smoothed his hair back out of his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." The word was a sigh laced with exhaustion.

Aerith smiled in sympathetic understanding. "You had a bad fever, but it looks like it's mostly gone now. A little rest and you'll be good as new."

Cloud coughed and closed his eyes. "Okay."

Aerith turned to look at the other concerned faces. "We should let him sleep. It's still a few hours until Costa del Sol, right?"

Zack nodded. "Yeah. I think we've got about three hours left before we dock."

"Then, we'll let him rest and wake up when we're about to dock. Hopefully we can spend the night at an inn and he'll be well enough for travel in the morning."

Zack swallowed. "Okay."

"Thanks," Cloud whispered, barely audible.

Zack sighed, fighting against the constricting pain in his heart. Why was it always Cloud who suffered? Who was left broken and wounded?

_I'd gladly take all his pain. Every single bit. _

But he couldn't. Cloud's pain was his own. All he could do—all he'd ever been able to do—was walk beside the blond, encourage him, and carry him when he couldn't walk anymore.

"Take it easy, Cloud." He squeezed the blanket-wrapped shoulder. "We'll keep you safe."

The others voiced their agreement, drawing a grateful smile from their charge. Soon, Cloud was fast asleep, looking peaceful and content. AVALANCHE moved away from the makeshift bed, out of hearing range. As they crouched behind a different stack of crates, Zack saw worry and concern reflected in every gaze.

"Man, poor Spiky," Barrett muttered, but thankfully took the matter no further, leaving the pressing questions unspoken.

Zack sighed, dropping his head into his hands. Aerith shot him a concerned glance and shifted her weight so she was closer to him. "I don't know what's wrong with Cloud." She looked at the others and frowned. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen."

"What do we do?" Tifa asked, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. She fixed her gaze on Aerith, pleading for guidance from the flower girl.

Aerith sighed, pulling more hair free of her braid in a rare display of nervousness. "I don't know what we can do, but keep an eye on him and hope for the best."

Tifa's shoulders sagged under the weight of defeat. "Oh."

Zack finally looked up, regarding them through watery eyes. "He'll make it." It was a tired croak, packed with emotion. "He has to."

Everyone stared at the ex-SOLDIER in concern, inwardly wondering how close he was to completely breaking down. These last six days had been rollercoaster of emotion for all of them and they were cracking from the force of the ride. Aerith wrapped an arm around Zack, trying to comfort him, and Tifa moved closer, doing the same from the other side as a faint hiccup—dangerously close to a sob—escaped him. Barrett and Red exchanged one hesitant glance before joining the huddle. Red pressed his head to Zack's leg while Barrett placed an awkward hand on his trembling shoulder.

They offered no shallow words of comfort, merely kept each other from falling.

* * *

Rufus sighed in a mixture of relief and contentment as Costa del Sol finally appeared on the horizon—the docks and beaches bustling and crowded as usual. At last, he had more space to get out from underneath Heidegger's surprisingly watchful eye. He needed to contact Reeve soon for news on the events within Shinra and whether or not another Turk would be joining their ranks. Unfortunately, he could do nothing with Heidegger breathing down his neck like a burly watch dog, waiting to attack should he make the slightest mistake.

Rufus sighed again—this time a sound of pure weariness—and rested his head on the cool metal railing. Sometimes, he hated his father's lack of trust in him. Well, most of the time he simply hated his father.

Around him the ship came to life as the crew began preparations to dock and grunts scurried about the ship, checking weapons and forming back into patrols. Rufus raised his head and watched as the ship slowly inched its way into position on the massive dock and the ground crew hurried around like ants, securing the ship in its resting place.

A shadow loomed at his shoulder, but he didn't turn his head, knowing it was Elena coming to check on him. "We're here," he said softly, watching the grunts preparing to disembark as the ramp lowered slowly, groaning in protest with every inch.

"Yes," Elena said. "I'm glad it was an uneventful journey."

Rufus smirked at the irony in her words and glanced over his shoulder at her. Her serious hazel eyes stared back and for a moment he wanted to just get lost in them. He jerked himself back to attention swiftly, alarmed at the idle thought, and focused on the dock below once more. "Where's Heidegger?"

"On his way," Elena replied stiffly. Rufus understood all too well her disgust for the man. He still remembered that fateful day seven years ago when Reno had come in for work with fresh scars carved into his face and Elena barely controlled her murderous rage. The desire for revenge had not waned over the years, just been deeply buried.

Something caught his eye. Two troopers hurried down the ramp in the wake of the main patrols, but one seemed to be weak, supported by the other. He frowned, easily guessing who they were. If they were spotted problems could arise that he would rather not deal with.

"One of the grunts seems to be hurt, sir." Elena's sharp eyes had also picked up the two stragglers.

Rufus sighed for the third time in ten minutes. He hated unexpected complications. "The trooper should rest. Probably in one of the hotels."

Elena frowned, but comprehension rapidly dawned in her eyes and she shot the two troopers a surprised glance. "All this time…" she murmured in awe, shaking her head slightly.

Rufus chuckled. "Yes, so it would be a shame for them to be caught now."

Elena pulled herself together and nodded. "Should I assist them, sir?"

Rufus watched as two more grunts rushed down the ramp, a strange dog-like creature between them. They were followed closely by a huge sailor in a too-small uniform. He had to admit they were good, sticking to the shadows, mostly out of sight. But it was a long walk to a hotel and they stood out like sore thumbs.

"Yes." He looked back at Elena with a tiny smile. "Just make sure they get there safely."

"Understood." And like a phantom, she was gone, merging with the shadows to trail her new charges.

Rufus glanced back out at the glimmering sea and mentally braced himself for Heidegger's arrival.

It was going to be a frustrating couple of days.

* * *

_Left. Right. Left. Right. Cough. Stumble. Left. Right. Left. Right. _

He tried to bring the world into focus, but it was achingly hard. Zack anchored him with a an arm around his waist and a hand loosely gripping his wrist, keeping his own arm in place around his friend's shoulders. Every step required a large amount of effort and concentration, but somehow he was managing. Voices swirled around him, penetrating the strange fog enveloping his senses and he latched onto them desperately, keeping himself from slipping away.

"We should find a place to stay immediately." Red sounded worried … for him? It felt strange, knowing the aloof beast actually cared about his well-being.

"Yeah, and ditch these uniforms." Tifa, always providing a voice of reason for their ragtag band.

"I can stay with Cloud while everyone goes out and gets supplies." Selfless Aerith. Cloud felt touched by her concern. Somehow, he knew that in the past being cared for was something as foreign to him as snow in the desert.

"Okay." Zack's voice, right in his ear. "We can split up and each buy different kinds of supplies."

"Hey, kid, how's far's this Chocobo farm ya keep talkin' about?" Barrett sounder gruffer than usual, though Cloud couldn't place why. Perhaps the sailor's uniform had something to do with it…

"About a day's walk. If we leave in the morning we should be able to get there the day after tomorrow."

Barrett snorted but didn't complain and the voices fell away into a quiet hum of noise rising from the bustling town around them. Cloud focused on his footsteps again in an effort to keep the images at bay. They kept flickering through his mind, over and over and over. Fire, chaos, blood, and finally _green. _Poison green, like mako, and it always burned like acid in his soul. The most disturbing image, though, was the mirror, cracked and distorted, but in it he saw himself with a twisted face and those green, green eyes. It terrified him more than fire and chaos and blood ever could.

"You doing okay, Cloud?" He clung to Zack's voice, allowing it to push the awful images away.

"Yeah." He managed to force the word out of his parched throat. "Thirsty." And tired. What he wouldn't give for a solid bed.

"We'll get water at the inn." Zack's fingers tightened around his wrist in a reassuring squeeze and he thought he felt Tifa's hand brush his shoulder briefly.

He closed his eyes again, preferring black to the blurry colors of the world, and sighed, hoping they were close to the inn. Just getting off the ship had been a nightmare, since they'd had to avoid all the patrols and the crew, using boxes, crates, and the shadows as cover in an endless pattern of starting and stopping that left him dizzy. The sense of relief had been incredible when he'd finally felt the warmth of the sun on his skin and smelled the salt of the sea. But it had faded quickly when they started out into the town, dodging and weaving their way through the crowds of tourists and vacationers. Now, he just longed for somewhere safe to lay down and _sleep. _

"Almost there," Zack murmured to him and he forced his protesting eyes open, watching Barrett clearing the path ahead of them with gruff words and impolite glares at anyone who ventured too close. Aerith and Red walked a step or two behind him, side by side, while Tifa brought up the rear, making sure no one plowed into Zack and Cloud from behind. Their forms were more definite now and the world was slowly coming into focus, shapes and shadows growing more and more obvious, even through the barrier of the helmet

"Good." Replying was still difficult but the stubborn part him refused to be cowed by a mere illness. He couldn't see Zack's smile, but knew it was there, as sure and certain as the wind.

They made a ninety degree turn suddenly that caused him to trip over his own feet for a few awkward steps and a building suddenly loomed in front of him, looking huge and monstrous through his distorted vision. Squinting and cursing the bulky, limiting helmet, Cloud was barely able to make out the flashing words, _Paradise Hotel_.

_Finally._

A wave of cool air assaulted him as Zack led him through the door. He shivered at the abrupt temperature change, but appreciated the relief it brought to his still hot skin. The receptionist gave them an odd look, but refrained from commenting when faced with Barrett's impressive scowl. Instead, she plastered on a too-bright smile and said, "How can I help you?" in a too-sweet and utterly fake voice.

"We need a room," Tifa stepped up to the desk. "Two if they're available."

The receptionist clacked away at a keyboard for a few moments before blinding them with another smile. "I'm sorry, we only have one large room available at the moment."

"We'll take it," Tifa said without hesitation, ignoring the receptionist's slight frown of disapproval.

"Very well." She named a price that was highway robbery, amiably accepted the gil Tifa grudgingly offered, and handed over two sets of keys. "Enjoy your stay at the Paradise Hotel."

Cloud was too tired to feel anything but relief at being one step closer to a bed, unaffected even by Barrett cursing a blue streak and Zack grumbling softly and far less vehemently about being cheated blind. He would have gladly offered all the gil in the world for a bed and accepted the consequences.

"Zack," he managed to mumble, hoping his friend could hear the pathetic whisper.

Fortunately, Zack's hearing was far more advanced than an average human's. "Bed, right. Sorry, buddy," His friend said gently and they were moving again across the lush rug toward the stairs.

Wait … stairs…

Cloud bit back a groan of frustration. As it was, an annoyed hiss still managed to escape, catching Zack's attention. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, glanced at them and then back at Cloud with a thoughtful frown. "I don't think you can climb these."

Cloud turned his head minutely to the left and then the right in a tiny headshake of protest. "No."

"Well," Zack's voice was full of forced cheer, "I'll have to carry you, then."

His feet left the floor far too suddenly for his tastes and the world spun crazily as he found himself in Zack's arms once again. At least he wasn't nauseous this time. That was a small blessing. The stairs creaked as Zack started up them and he distantly heard the others starting up a few moments later. The world slowly settled back into place but he still felt helpless and so terribly _weak. _

And he hated himself for it.

The stairs were behind them and Zack started down the hall, passing room and after room in search of theirs. Once, he paused and shouted a question back at Tifa, asking for the room number. Cloud smiled in spite of the situation, wondering if Zack had always been this unobservant and wishing he could remember.

Zack back up a few doors, finally locating the room, and tapped his foot impatiently as Tifa came forward with the key. Cloud was too tired to request to be set down and allowed Zack to carry him into the surprisingly spacious room. He sighed as he was laid gently on the comfortable bed and let himself go limp, sagging back into the covers. Zack's face hovered over him for a moment, then the helmet was gone and everything seemed far too bright. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of light, feeling someone untie his boots and tug them off, while someone else removed his shoulder pauldrons, knee guards, gun holster, and belt. The disappearing weight was freeing and he sighed again, almost content.

"I'll go get some water, 'kay Spiky?" Barrett clumped out of the room and when Cloud opened his eyes again, Aerith was leaning over him, untying the bandana around his neck. She offered him a gentle smile and paused to smooth his bangs from his forehead in a motherly gesture that felt both calming and comforting.

"You can sleep all you want now, just as soon as Barrett gets some water for you."

"M'kay." More clumping and thudding. The door creaked and Barrett re-entered, carrying a large glass of water.

Aerith took it from him and asked Zack to help Cloud sit up. The ex-SOLDIER sank down on the bed and Cloud felt a hand slide between his upper back and the bed, pushing him upright. He leaned against the solid pillar of Zack and opened his mouth when Aerith pressed the rim of the cool glass to his lips. Beautiful, soothing liquid rushed down his throat, putting out the fire and he couldn't get enough of it. He drank greedily until the glass was empty and Zack lowered him back onto the bed.

"Get some sleep, buddy."

Another reassuring smile was the last thing Cloud saw before the darkness pulled him away into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

"We should go get supplies."

Zack tore his gaze from his sleeping friend to glance at Red, who was standing near the door trying gallantly to keep his tail from touching any of the wood.

"Right." He decided not make an attempt at satisfying his curiosity. Red probably didn't want to walk about his tail.

He stood slowly, hating to leave Cloud's side. Seeing the blond so helpless and disoriented rattled him deeply, bringing painful memories to the surface again and again. The others lingered around the room, looking at him with expectant eyes that demanded his leadership.

"How about we split up? Barrett, you can get tents; Tifa: clothes and cooking utensils; and I'll get food, first aid supplies, and anything else we might need. Aerith and Red can stay here and look after Cloud."

Everyone agreed to plan and Zack divided up the remaining gil, hoping it would be enough to cover all of their expenses. He really didn't want to resort to stealing again. Once Tifa and Barrett had left he turned to Aerith, who had perched at the foot of Cloud's bed. She smiled at him as he stepped forward and embraced her, needing the comfort being close to her always provided.

"You'll be okay?" He asked softly.

Her fingers ran through his hair gently. "Will you?"

_I don't know. _"Yes."

Her smile was in her voice. "Then I'll be fine, too."

He pulled away and let his fingers trail across her cheek for a brief moment, ignoring the knowing look in her green orbs. She always saw his soul, but he didn't particularly mind. It simply meant he never needed words to explain how he was feeling.

"I'll be back soon." He forced himself to back up and head for the door, nodding at Red who returned the gesture with a faint smile.

"We will be fine," he said in a matter-of-fact tone that was oddly reassuring.

"Yes," Aerith agreed. "We will."

Feeling a little lighter, Zack smiled one last time and closed the door behind him, hurrying down the hall toward the busy streets of Costa del Sol.

* * *

His arm was on fire—a searing pain that sliced through his veins with even the slightest movement. Frowning, Reno glared at the offending appendage securely encased in a cast. The doctor had taken one look at the injury and nearly thrown a temper tantrum, demanding that the Turk avoid strenuous activities for at least another week and if he ever tried to pull a stunt like the simulation room again he would be strapped to a bed until fully healed. So, here he was, stuck in the infirmary until Tseng came and cleared him for duty. It had been four hours and Reno was bored out of his mind.

He'd counted all the minute scuff marks on the ceiling and the floor and attempted to count individual lights outside, as well as running through numerous mental exercises, but nothing helped. He'd never craved a drink more in his life.

With a sigh, the redhead shifted his weight and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes in a pathetic attempt to get some sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep since the plate fell—his nights full of the screams of the dying and the blossoming explosions repeating over and over until he woke up trying to stifle his screams.

Oh, how he wanted a drink. Several, in fact.

The door hissed open suddenly and he bolted upright, instantly alert, caught between hope that it would be Tseng and dread that it would be the doctor back for another lecture. To his surprise, it was neither man. Reeve Tuesti stood in the doorway, regarding him with a thoughtful frown.

"What are you doing here?" Reno blurted, unable to hide his surprise. Although Reeve and the Turks went back years, the man had little contact with them outside of providing new technology for them to work with. He was far too compassionate for the dark world the Turks lived in and avoided it at every opportunity.

Reeve smiled, but it looked painfully forced. "I need to talk to you."

"Now?" Reno asked with an arched eyebrow and a puzzled frown. What could Reeve possibly want to discuss that was so important?

Reeve let loose a dry, almost nervous chuckle. "Yes, now. Before you kill yourself."

Reno ignored the jab, which was far too close to the truth for comfort, and fired off another question. "What about?"

Reeve's gaze flicked briefly to the security cameras and he shook his head. "Not here. Come with me."

Reno's suspicion skyrocketed. Reeve wanted to discuss something important, without Shinra listening in, which could only mean one thing—rebellion. Rebellion meant death, especially for a Turk, who was bound by absolute loyalty to the president. Agreeing to come with Reeve could mean the end of everything … but wasn't that what he wanted?

With a sardonic, knowing smile, Reno slid off the bed and ambled toward the door, ignoring Reeve's anxious, assessing stare. "All right."

* * *

It was nightfall by the time Zack returned laden with supplies. It had taken hours of running all over Cost del Sol to find everything he needed and he felt tired to the bone. When he slipped through the door, he wasn't surprised to find Barrett fast asleep on the floor snoring softly and Tifa curled up on one of the two beds with Red lying at her feet. Only Aerith remained awake, sitting diligently by Cloud's side. She glanced up and smiled in obvious relief when he closed the door carefully behind him and set his numerous packages on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Weaving around Barrett, the flower girl moved to his side and helped him with his load. "I was getting worried," she whispered.

"It just took awhile to find everything." Zack kept his voice low, but Tifa still turned over and made a small sound of protest at the noise. Zack and Aerith winced simultaneously and exchanged a nervous glance.

Zack's eyes lit up suddenly and he smiled, touching her arm gently. "Come with me."

She titled her head, raising one delicate eyebrow in question. "Where are we going?"

His smile grew a few millimeters, bordering on a grin. "You'll see."

Tifa rolled over again, stirring toward wakefulness. Zack swiftly took Aerith's hand and pulled her from the room. They jogged down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time. The receptionist gave them a curious stare as they slipped out into the cool night, but again said nothing.

The lights of Costa del Sol still shone brightly and people milled about the streets, though it had slowed to a meager trickle of drunks and a few late night partiers. Most of the city had long since gone to bed.

Zack led her through the streets at a leisurely pace, still holding her hand tightly, and she drank in the sights she had missed earlier that afternoon when she was too worried about Cloud to take note of her surroundings. Costa del Sol really was a beautiful city, almost magical, and so different from Midgar. The sights and smells combined with the distant roar of the ocean made her head spin. So many new places in just six days was more than a little overwhelming.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Zack murmured, glancing at her with dancing eyes.

"Yes," she replied, wonder glowing on her face. "It's so beautiful."

"Come on," Zack said, picking up the pace and tugging her along. "You haven't seen the best part yet."

The buildings soon began to thin and the roar of the ocean grew louder. Finally, Zack led her down a slope of sand onto the moonlit beach. She sucked in a stunned breath, drinking in the silver sand, the rich black ocean, the endless array of glittering stars, like confetti, and a full, glorious moon.

"It's … it's…" Words failed her. Nothing could describe the magic of what she was seeing. The world beyond the slums was far more amazing than she'd ever imagined.

And the best, most glorious sight of all was Zack, whose eyes twinkled like the stars with a grin that outshone even the moon decked in all it's finery.

Zack wrapped an arm around her and rested his chin on her head with a contented sigh. "I've always wanted to show you this."

She wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him, fixed her eyes on the tumbling waves. "It's so beautiful."

"Not scary?" He teased again.

She giggled. "No. Not scary. Though the ocean is so … big."

"Yeah. It makes me feel small … helpless." His sigh was sharp with frustration.

Aerith frowned thoughtfully. "I … like it. It makes me think that … there's something bigger out there. Something that crafted these oceans. And that … everything isn't up to me. There's … something bigger, better than me, that can help me if I have problems." She glanced up at Zack. "If that makes any sense."

"It … does, actually," Zack said after a moment. "I've never … thought about it that way."

They fell into contemplative silence, watching the endless coming and going of the tides. After a few minutes, Zack shook himself out of his reverie and linked his arm through hers with a soft smile. "Come on, let's walk on the beach. You know, that cheesy romantic thing that couples do in every romantic novel under the sun?"

She laughed hard, but allowed him to lead her closer to the water, flinching only slightly when the tide rolled in and water washed across her legs, wetting the hem of her new green skirt. Fortunately, it was still warm and Aerith found herself venturing in a little bit more, hypnotized by the majestic sea. Zack, seeing her fascination, smiled. "Do you want to go further in?"

She hesitated, a little afraid, but Zack led her forward slowly. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." Her fears vanished at the confidence and strength in his voice. Of course she would be fine, Zack was here.

"Okay. Lead the way."

The next wave came up to her waist and the one after that swirled around her shoulders. She gasped and hung onto Zack as the current pulled at her, trying to drag her out to sea. This was a little more daunting than she'd first thought. Zack's arm, wet and cool, encompassed her in a snug embrace, keeping her safe and secure. She looked up at him and giggled at the sight. His hair was soaked and plastered to his face, though still stubbornly sticking up in the back and his grin was wide and infectious, like it had been the day she met him.

"What's so funny?" he asked her, bobbing as another wave rocked them.

"You," she replied with another giggle. "You look so happy."

He laughed, bright and loud. "I _am _happy. Happier than I've been in years."

"That's good." She smiled up at him through sopping bangs. Parts of her braid were coming loose and to her surprise, Zack reached out and tugged her hair free of the ribbon, letting it spill around her shoulders and down her waist.

"Zack!" She cried as it fell into her eyes.

He tucked the faded pink ribbon into his pocket and smirked at her. "So it doesn't wash away."

"Well you could have warned me!" She smacked him on the shoulder—a loud splash punctuating the gesture. "Now my hair's all over the place."

He tugged on her hair lightly, still smiling. "It looks good down."

She shook her head and hit him playfully once more. Another wave rose to their necks, soaking them thoroughly, and Aerith fought for balance, wiping salt out of her stinging eyes. "You know," she remarked, pushing her hair over her shoulder. "This isn't very romantic."

Zack chuckled. "I have to agree with you there. Though this isn't really walking on the beach."

She rested her head against his chest, feeling the wet fabric scrape her cheek. "That's okay. I don't mind."

"Do you want to get out?" His arms wrapped around her again, drawing her closer.

"No. I like it here." The water was warm and the rocking motion of the waves lulled her into relaxation while having Zack so close made her heart pound. "Just hold me."

He complied, pulling her as close as possible and running his fingers through her long hair. "I wish we could stay here forever."

She sighed. "Me too."

"Hey, let's try something." She drew back slightly and looked up at him in surprise.

"What?"

"Have you ever floated before?"

She frowned, not particularly liking where he was going with this. "No. I've never even been in water this deep before."

"It's nice. You just let go and drift on the water, let the waves carry you."

This sounded more alarming than fun. "What if you get pulled out to sea?"

"You won't," he reassured her. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't know, Zack. I prefer having both feet on the ground."

"Let's try it," he said enthusiastically. "I'll hold onto you."

She swallowed her nervousness and gave in, allowing Zack to lead her out into deeper water. When the waves brushed her chin, Zack stopped and she held on for dear life, regretting her decision already. "Maybe we should just walk on the beach."

"Scaredy-cat," Zack teased, nudging her.

Stubborn pride took hold of her, refusing to let her retreat, and she raised her chin defiantly. "I am not. Are you going to show me how do this?"

He snickered but refrained from teasing her further. "Yeah. Just push off with your feet and lay on your back."

She did as he instructed and found herself staring up at the stars. It was nice for a moment, until an unexpected wave rose up and nearly yanked her away from Zack. She gasped and grabbed his arm tightly, desperately wanting the comfort of solid ground. "Zack…"

"Easy, Aerith," he soothed, holding her steady. "I've got you."

Gradually, she relaxed and allowed the waves to sway her gently back and forth—Zack's steady hands anchoring her. Overhead, the stars danced and twirled against a backdrop of velvet, but she remained fascinated by Zack's pulsing eyes, richer and bluer somehow in the silver light of the moon.

Maybe this was romantic, after all.

Suddenly, Zack leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, lifting her out of the water to cradle her in his strong arms. The kiss held the bitter tang of salt and his lips were cold but she wouldn't trade the feeling for any in the world. Having him here, with her, was every dream, wish, and hope finally come true.

They lost themselves for a while, falling deeper and deeper into each other. At last, they parted slowly, short of breath and exhilarated. But before either could say anything, a large wave abruptly crashed over their heads, shoving them down into the ocean and filling their mouths and throats with bitter salt.

Zack intertwined his fingers with Aerith and battled back to the surface, coming up coughing and spluttering. Aerith emerged half a second later, expelling water from her mouth and rubbing frantically at her eyes, shaking like a leaf in the wind. He tugged her to him and tried to stop her violent trembling, rubbing soothing circles on her back with his palm After a minute, she collected herself enough to speak.

"That … ruined it."

Zack laughed in spite of his burning throat and eyes. "Y-yeah. Only us, right?"

Aerith nodded. "I think … w-we should go back to shore."

Zack didn't protest and insisted on carrying Aerith back to the safety of land. He set her down in the sand far away from the water's edge and collapsed beside her with a weary sigh. "Man, so much for romantic. Those novels lie."

Aerith sniggered into her hand. "I still had fun. Even though you almost got me drowned."

"Hey!" He squawked in protest. "I would never have let you drown!"

She rested her head against his shoulder with a smile. "I know."

"Do you still want to walk on the beach?"

"No," she replied without hesitation. "Let's just sit here for awhile."

And so they did and there was nothing but the sand, the stars, the sea, and the love that burned bright and strong between them.

* * *

The next morning Cloud was well enough to walk on his own and Tifa refrained from asking why Zack and Aerith returned close to midnight covered in sand and soaked to the bone, especially when Aerith mentioned that she had no desire to ever set foot in the ocean again.

Dressed in new clothes and each sporting a pack stuffed to the brim with supplies, AVALANCHE stood at the edge of Costa del Sol, staring at the plains stretching on before them, an endless sea of gold with one wide dirt road cutting a straight path through. It was a day and a half of walking to reach to the Chocobo farm and not a single member of the ragtag group looked forward to the journey.

"We should have spent more time in Costa del Sol," Tifa muttered as they began their trek, fanning out along the road.

"I would have liked to," Zack agreed from a few feet in front of her, eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of monsters. "But the longer we stay in one place …"

"The closer Shinra gets," Tifa finished for him. "Yeah."

"At least this walk is shorter than the one to Junon," Red added, trying to be optimistic.

The response was far from enthusiastic. "Well," Zack sighed, picking up the pace. "Let's get this over with. The faster we get to the farm, the better. I'd like to make it to Wutai by the end of next week, if possible."

This time everyone replied with low, heartfelt groans.

* * *

­

"_Finally." _

Tifa nearly wept with relief at the sight of the Chocobo farm in the distance. The journey had been arduous and full of monsters, taking almost twice as long as they expected. They were all filthy and thoroughly exhausted. Cloud especially, who stumbled every few steps, but miraculously didn't collapse.

His stamina really was amazing.

The farm was quiet as they approached and Tifa was surprised to see only two Chocobos milling about in the pen. Zack had told her that this was one of the larger farms and usually had a large supply of the great birds. Was something wrong?

They waited anxiously near the pen while Zack trudged up to the door of the house and knocked. After the third try, it swung open and a thin, wiry man with a full beard of dark hair stepped out onto the porch, frowning at them from beneath the wide brim of a hat.

"Can I help you folks?"

"We're here to rent Chocobos," Zack explained wearily. "How much?"

The man shook his head. "Sorry, son, I ain't renting Chocobos until I find my prize one. Fool thing ran off three days ago and I haven't seen it since. Unfortunately, it's the life of this farm and I ain't gonna do business without it."

Zack looked ready to yank his hair out in frustration. "What if we brought it back for you?" Behind him, one of the large birds shuffled up behind Cloud and after a moment of examination, began chewing happily on his hair. Cloud yelped in shock and jerked himself away, staring at the Chocobo with eyes close to the size of saucers. Barrett snickered and the man on the porch arched his eyebrows in amusement.

"I doubt you folks would be able to bring it back for me."

Zack crossed his arms, fighting the urge to glare. "If we do, will you rent Chocobos to us at half price?"

The man considered it for a moment, then stuck out his hand. "Deal. You'll have to go on foot. The rest o' my Chocobos need some rest, specially if I'm gonna rent 'em out. We've been runnin 'em hard lookin' for old Charlie."

Zack snorted but grumpily agreed. Meanwhile, Cloud waved the Chocobo away from his hair a second time. Barrett chortled and Tifa had to hold back a laugh. "They really like you, Cloud."

"What's Charlie look like?" Zack asked, turning his attention back to the farmer and fighting a smile.

"He's big and black. Ya can't miss 'em."

"Really?" Zack muttered in a voice dripping with sarcasm and headed back for the group. They all looked at him expectantly and he let out a long sigh. "I'll go look. You guys wait here. It's probably better if we don't go in a group. Less chance of scaring him off."

"At least two of us should go, though." Tifa pointed out. "It would make searching faster."

"Fine," Barrett stepped forward. "I'll go with ya."

Zack ran a hand through his hair and nodded, too tired to argue. Side by side, the two men set out in search of Charlie.

* * *

They returned an hour and a half later, mud covered and frustrated. Zack look half-dead while curses left Barrett's mouth in a never-ending stream. Tifa sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "Let me guess, you didn't find him."

"No," Zack ground out around Barrett's swearing. "Stupid bird…"

"I'll go next," Cloud offered, surprising them all.

Zack frowned. "But, Cloud…"

"I'll be fine," Cloud cut in, tired of being babied. "Don't worry."

"I will go with him," Red moved to Cloud's side, looking a little excited at the idea of a chase.

Zack gave in. "Fine. Just be careful."

The second wave of searchers left the farm to look for the elusive Charlie. There was just one problem: Cloud didn't know the special Chocobo was black. If he had, it would have made things a great deal easier.

* * *

A mere half an hour later, Cloud appeared over the hill, stalking forward angrily. The others gathered at the edge of the farm and gaped, not at Cloud, but at the big black bird that followed in his wake, shadowing his movements. Cloud halted abruptly and turned to glare at the bird as it made a swipe at his hair. The Chocobo danced away and Cloud resumed his journey, but it still trailed after him, warking happily.

"Are you … seeing what I'm seeing?" Zack asked Tifa after a moment of stunned silence.

"I … think so," she replied, sounding uncertain.

"Chocobos must really like Cloud," Aerith mumbled in awe.

Cloud finally reached them and stopped with an irritated huff. "Sorry, guys, I didn't find the Chocobo, but this stupid bird won't leave me alone. I lost sight of Red, too."

More stunned silence.

The Chocobo leaned in and tried to eat Cloud's hair again. Snarling, the blond reached for his sword, fully prepared to give the offending bird a piece of his mind. To his shock, everyone jumped forward with a collective cry of, "NO!"

He blinked at them in confusion and taking advantage of the stalemate, the black Chocobo nudged Cloud's shoulder affectionately and began to contentedly munch on a lock of blond hair. Cloud wasn't sure it was safe to smack it away so he kept himself still, waiting for an explanation from the rest of AVALANCHE.

They were staring at him with varying degrees of disbelief. "What?"

"Could he possibly not know?" Tifa murmured.

"Man." Barrett whistled softly, shaking his head.

"I don't think I ever explained that Chocobos come in different colors." Zack finally added, watching the big bird snack on his friend's spiky hair.

"What's wrong?" Cloud asked again, growing increasingly worried. What had he done? He didn't understand.

"You found him!" All heads turned to the exuberant farmer who rounded corner of the stables at a run, grinning wildly. " I can't believe it!"

Cloud blinked again and finally shooed the bird away, staring at it with slowly dawning comprehension. "You mean … this is Charlie?"

Zack rubbed the back of his head and coughed awkwardly. "Yeah…"

As the man hurried up, gushing his thanks, and began to lead Charlie to the stables, Cloud crossed his arms and frowned at Zack. "So … they come in different colors?"

"Yeah," Zack muttered again, looking abashed.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?!" Cloud cried in exasperation.

Zack laughed nervously. "I thought you knew…"

Cloud sighed and massaged his temple, feeling incredibly tired. Tifa looked back and forth between them and forced a smile. "At least we got them at half price, right?"

No one shared her optimism.

When Red returned fifteen minutes later and heard the story he looked more amused than they had ever seen him, laughing quietly to himself as they went off to collect the Chocobos and equipment.

Traveling with humans was certainly interesting, to say the least.

* * *

**Coming up next--**more dealings with Chocobos and a decision from a Turk.


	23. XXII: Ring Around the Rosie

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, this is a relatively fast update. :D I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, even if not too much happens in it. At least, not action-wise. In fact, most of it is coversations between various people. But don't get me wrong. This chapter is still very important. Especially one paticular section. I hope everything flows well and everyone is in character. I've had some doubts with this chapter. Please let me know if you see anything that is off, or unbelievable. I will do my best to fix it. **

**On another note, I'm afraid updates won't be as frequent anymore. College is starting and so life is going to get twice as hectic and until I figure out my schedule and settle into a routine, I won't have much time to write. (Real Life is such a bother, ne? :P). I will be no means be abandoning this story, don't worry. We still have quite a bit to go and I'm enjoying the ride. Keep reading and reviewing and I shall keep writing. Deal? **

* * *

"Stupid bird!"

Zack snickered, hiding his laughter behind his free hand, as another exclamation drifted up from Barrett at the back of the line. Behind him, he could feel Aerith giggling quietly into his sweater and one Chocobo over, Tifa turned in her seat to glance back at the burly man who was struggling to get his Chocobo in line. The bird was distracted and weaving about like a drunkard while Barrett hung on for dear life and cursed up a storm.

"Having trouble, Barrett?" Tifa asked sweetly, eyes alight with mischief. Even Cloud hung his head to mask the smile growing on his lips.

"Shut up, Tifa! Ain't my fault!" Barrett cried as the Chocobo suddenly veered left, nearly throwing him from his seat. On the ground, Red leapt sideways to avoid being trampled and glared up at Barrett.

"Please watch where you are going," he requested politely with a rather impolite tone. Barrett glowered at him for a moment before the Chocobo drew his attention again by picking up speed.

"Fool bird! Knock it off!" Barrett roared, pulling back on the reins.

Cloud turned around now, glancing at his comrade with a disapproving frown in place of a smile. "Barrett, you're scaring it."

"What?!" The rebel cried as the Chocobo suddenly warked loudly, drowning out Cloud's words.

Cloud sighed and drew back on the reins, slowing his mount down. Up ahead, Zack pulled to a stop, watching the unfolding events with an amused smile. He'd been wondering when Barrett was going to crack. He and the Chocobo hadn't hit it off by any means and after close to eight hours of almost non-stop travel, both he and the great bird were at their wit's end. Cloud, however, had developed a very strong connection with all the birds. He seemed to have a knack for taking care of them and understanding how they worked, though he didn't remember any previous interaction he might have had with Chocobos. They, also, were very drawn to him, following him around, trying to eat his hair, and generally being a nuisance. Cloud had put up with it all remarkably well.

Cloud leaned over and grabbed the reins of Barrett's Chocobo, successfully halting the skittish bird. Barrett crossed his arms and huffed, glaring alternately at Cloud and his mount. Cloud bit his lip, withering slightly under the man's heavy gaze. But then he gathered his courage around him like a suit of armor and spoke. "You're yelling too much. It's scared."

Barrett's glare intensified. "Stupid bird deserves it!" His voice reached an impressive volume and the Chocobo tried to leap sideways, almost wrenching Cloud from his own mount.

Cloud managed to hold on and get the bird back under control, but his shoulders slumped with both fatigue and frustration. Behind him in the saddle, Tifa crossed her arms and pierced Barrett with an impressive glare of her own. "It's acting up because you're yelling, idiot. If you stop yelling, it'll stop dancing around like that!"

"This ain't my fault!"

"Yes, it is! If you would just shut up we wouldn't be having these kinds of problems."

"How 'bout you mind your own business!"

"How can I with you yelling and slowing us all down!"

By this time, Tifa and Barrett had both leaned as far out of their saddles as they could, drawing close to each other in their argument. Between them, Cloud sank lower and lower in the saddle, trying to become invisible while still keeping a tight grip on Barrett's Chocobo.

Zack decided that it was time to intervene and assert his authority. "Guys!"

"I ain't slowin' us down! It's the bird, not me!"

"You're _controlling_ the bird! So it's _your_ fault! Cloud said that your yelling is scaring it!"

"Well you're yellin', too!"

"Guys_!" _

"_I'm _yelling because _you're _yelling and you won't listen to me otherwise!"

"'Course I would, woman!"

"Did you just call me _woman?!" _

"So what?!"

"You just called me _woman!" _

"_Guys!" _

"You are one, ain't ya!"

"Of all the _disrespectful—" _

"_GUYS!" _

Barrett and Tifa turned and blinked in surprise at Zack, who stood half out of his saddle regarding them through narrowed eyes with a look of pure exasperation. "Will you knock it off?!"

Aerith placed a firm hand on his shoulder and pulled him back into his seat, stopping him from renewing the shouting match. Red glanced up toward the setting sun then back at his angry companions and stated rather calmly, "I think we should make camp for the night."

Aerith nodded, still gripping a fuming Zack's arm. "Yes, I think that would be a _very _good idea."

In between Barrett and Tifa Cloud breathed a loud sigh of sheer relief, while Zack deflated, rubbing forehead wearily. "Fine. I suppose we can stop."

The tension slowly drained from the exhausted group as they found a good spot to make camp and dismounted their equally tired Chocobos. Tethering the large birds to stakes in the ground, AVALANCHE emptied their saddle bags and spread out, starting preparations for the night. Cloud fed the Chocobos while Zack and Barett pitched three tents under the observation of Red. Aerith began clearing away brush for a fire pit, stacking the pieces suitable for fuel and calling instructions to Tifa, who set about scouring the area for logs to use as firewood.

The bustle of activity died down a half an hour later when the group convened around the now-blazing fire and watched Aerith stir some kind of soup in the black pot she'd insisted they lug along. Appetizing smells drifted above the acrid smoke, making every mouth water. Aerith giggled as Zack and Barrett both leaned forward impatiently and peered into the pot, trying to figure out how much time the soup had left to cook without actually asking.

"About ten more minutes," she informed them with a smile. Zack rocked back on his heels and rubbed the back of his head in that familiar nervous, embarrassed gesture.

"Right."

"You're both drooling," Tifa snickered from beside Aerith, rummaging through her pack for bowls.

Barrett huffed in outrage. "We're starvin'!"

Tifa exchanged a knowing eye roll with Aerith. "Men, stomachs the size of black holes." Aerith giggled again and resumed stirring when Zack gave her a false, but still convincing wounded look.

Red flicked his tail in the sand. "I do not have the stomach the size of a black hole. Maybe because I do not spend so much time shouting."

Zack shot Red a suspicious glare while Barrett sputtered about for a response. "Are you _teasing _us, Red?"

Red regarded him solemnly. "Of course not. Where do you get that idea?"

Zack gaped. "You _are!" _

"You are delusional." The tiniest hint of mirth crept into his eyes, giving him away.

Zack laughed triumphantly, elbowing Barrett and ignoring the indignant snort the other man let out. "How 'bout that, Red has a sense of humor!"

"Now I believe it is you who is teasing me."

Zack's grin was brilliant. "What goes around comes around, Red."

"Hmph. If one has the mental capability to complete the circle."

"Huh?"

"I think he's insultin' ya, kid."

"_Hey!" _Red, Aerith, and Tifa simultaneously snickered, trading amused glances while Zack crossed his arms and tried to summon up a withering glare. The expression somehow morphed into a pout, which sent the others roaring as Zack protested loudly.

The only silent one of the group was Cloud, sitting next to Red with his arms around his knees and a pensive look that deepened the lines on his face, aging him considerably. He hadn't said a word in hours and now his gaze was focused inward, glazed eyes peering into the flames without seeing them. Tifa chewed her lip as she watched him and tried hard not to worry. It wasn't working very well. She caught Zack's eye and jerked her head toward the edge of the camp. He gave her a small nod and rose to his feet, excusing himself from the still chuckling Aerith, Barrett, and Red. Together, they wandered out of hearing distance and faced each other, finding the same anxiety in the other's eyes.

"Do you know what's wrong with Cloud?" Tifa asked, glancing back at the huddled blond.

Zack sighed and ran a hand through his hair, lips pursed in distress. "I was about to ask you the same question."

"He's been like this since he was sick."

She barely detected Zack's flinch and the faint stutter in his voice. "Y-yeah."

Crossing her arms, Tifa searched Zack's face for signs of truth buried beneath all the walls. "You know what's wrong with him, don't you?"

Zack cringed again, but there was honesty in his tone. "No. Not really."

"Does it have something to do with Nibelheim?"

"Tifa—"

"Because he was there, wasn't he? He was the trooper who saved my life when the monster attacked. And he was there when the town burned. And then the two of you disappeared for five years. I'm not stupid, Zack. I know something awful happened there and it has Shinra's name written all over it. When you come back Cloud doesn't remember a thing and I can see the agony you're hiding. What did they do to him, Zack?! What did they do to you?!"

Zack shivered and for a minute the walls crumbled, allowing Tifa to see every bit of anguish and regret the ex-SOLDIER had carefully stored away. The force of it nearly broke her and she recoiled, trying to escape its weight. Then, Zack frantically built back up the barriers, forcing his face into an indifferent expression that was ragged around the edges but still firm, keeping her at bay.

It was a pointless effort. She'd already seen more than enough.

He answered her, though, in a voice that still strong in spite of the quiver evident in it. "Unspeakable things, Tifa. Horrible, unspeakable things. It was _hell. _And we barely survived." He laughed bitterly. "Sometimes I wonder if we did survive, or if we're just walking ghosts. Undead. Something like that. Because how could any human being survive what they did to us? It shouldn't be possible. Yet here we are. Isn't that funny?"

"Zack…" Tifa murmured, wishing she hadn't pushed. Zack looked away, but his stiff shoulders said what his face wouldn't.

"Just leave it, Tifa, please. I don't know what's wrong with Cloud. I don't know if I'll ever know all of it. It doesn't matter. I'll stand by him no matter what. I owe it to him."

"What was he like, Zack?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, fueled by years of curiosity.

Zack glanced back at her and his eyes burned with an odd mixture of pride and remorse. "He was amazing." He smiled—sad and sincere. "He was going to do great things. He had so much talent. He was going to _be _someone. I wish …" He broke off, choking on his words. With a deep, shuddering breath he pulled himself together and plowed on. "I wish you could have seen him."

Now it was Tifa's turn to look away, unable to face the emotions in Zack's eyes. "It's my own fault I didn't."

Zack's questioning gaze bore into her back, but she refused to turn around. "Why?"

"I was selfish and stupid and he left. That's all." One hand clenched into a trembling fist and Tifa tired to collect herself, wondering how the conversation had strayed into such personal, painful territory.

"Maybe we should just forget about all this for now." She inwardly thanked Zack for his perception and finally managed to look him in the eye.

"Yeah. We should."

He stepped forward and placed one warm hand on her shoulder, gracing her with a wavering but genuine smile. Then, he strode past her, toward the fire and the others. She watched him pause to touch Aerith's shoulder briefly, shaking his head in response to something she asked, before sitting down next to Cloud in a silent show of support.

_I wish I could be as strong as him. _

With a shake of her head, the warrior also made her way back to the circle and, stubbornly ignoring the curious glances aimed at her, sank down beside Barrett. Aerith quietly dished out the soup, handing people cloths to protect their hands. "It's very hot."

Cloud took his bowl first, cradling it between his hands as he stared blankly into the soup. It took Zack a full minute to realize the blond wasn't using a protective cloth. "Cloud, that's hot!"

Cloud jerked, dropping the bowl in surprise. Soup sloshed all over the ground and splattered his pants and boots, creating a large mess. Cloud blinked at it, then slowly raised his hands, staring with wide eyes at the small burns discoloring his skin. Aerith was the first to break the stunned silence, scrambling over the others and grabbing Cloud's damaged hands.

"They don't look too bad," she declared after a minute of inspection. I'll get some bandages and ointment."

Zack swallowed and gently took Cloud's wrist, staring at the red splotches on his palm. Cloud averted his eyes, shoulders hunched in silent shame. After a tense moment, Zack ventured a hesitant question. "You … didn't feel it?"

Cloud curled up even more and when he spoke it was a low whisper. "No."

"Do you … feeling anything now?"

"… no."

Zack bit his lip hard and let go of Cloud's hand as Aerith knelt in front of them again, armed with plenty of bandages and cream. Wordlessly, Cloud extended his hands and let Aerith work her magic, rubbing ointment on the raw skin and wrapping them tightly. Finished in a few brief minutes, she dished out another bowl of soup for him and returned to her place in the circle, while the others focused on eating, refraining from commenting on the bizarre turn of events.

The rest of the evening remained silent and tense.

* * *

_Burning, burning—the world was burning._

_On all sides, fire licked at his skin and rose up toward the night, surrounding him. He felt the heat, but his flesh remained unblemished and the glow was blinding—more achingly bright than even the sun. His feet moved by their own will, carrying him through the raging inferno, though to where he didn't know. Through the haze of smoke, he could make out the crumbling silhouettes of buildings, consumed greedily by the fire. _

_Through the crackle of the flames, screams rent the air, tearing at his ears all the way down to his soul. The screams of the dying, the screams of those left behind. He even thought he could hear the screams of the dead. _

_Burning, burning—the world was burning. _

_And he stood at its center, watching everything die. Emotions crashed over him continuously. Dark, black hate; furious rage; grim, bloody satisfaction; gut-wrenching terror; stunned horror; heartsick agony; deep sorrow—each was so different and powerful he felt as though he was being rapidly torn in half. _

_Soon, there would be nothing left of him. _

_He tried to scream, but no sound came from his throat. All around him, people wept and burned and died, but he couldn't move. The two different sides of him pulled viciously. _

* * *

_**They deserve this!**_

_**How could you?!**_

* * *

_He gasped and tried to clutch his head as the voices tore through his mind. One sounded like a younger version of himself, laced with shattered innocence and naïve disbelief, while the other belonged to a stranger he felt he should recognize and was saturated by the bleakest hate he'd ever known. _

_Who were they? Why were they in his head? He needed to get away. But he couldn't move a single muscle and all around him, the world burned and people kept on screaming, screaming, screaming._

_When would they stop screaming? _

* * *

_**If only I knew what a normal life was like. **_

_**If only I could be extraordinary. Like a SOLDIER.**_

* * *

_The fire faded suddenly and he was left gasping and shaking in darkness, straining to see through the inky black, but terrified of what might lurk in the shadows. The voices continued to echo, both without and within, coming from a place in his soul he didn't remember and couldn't find. _

_Faces, there were faces in the dark—images passing by so rapidly he could barely keep up. A smiling face with familiar pale blue eyes. The same face full of angry disbelief, then bitter regret, and finally tragic peace through a veil of blood. A man with stooped shoulders and a twisted smile that never stopped laughing, even when people were dying. A man with strong shoulders, dark hair, and sad eyes, haunted by something perhaps only he could see, waiting for the day it would consume him. A woman with blond hair and blue eyes that always gazed into a life long gone and never saw the present. Another man with red hair and a regal stance whose eyes held whispers of glory and darkness. A glimmering sea, a peaceful village, a rain-soaked battlefield full of soldiers in strange armor, a bloody cliff full of soldiers who should have been allies. _

_Every image made sense and no sense at all. Every image was familiar and foreign. He understood, but he didn't. They flowed past him like a river and no matter how hard he tried to hold on, the water slid through his fingertips into oblivion. _

* * *

_**I've never had a home. Shinra, Hojo, they don't know me. They never will.**_

_**I wish I knew what home felt like. **_

_**I've never had a home. I've lived in this village all my life, but they don't' know me. **_

_**They never will. **_

_**I wish I knew what home felt like.**_

* * *

_The darkness morphed into green and he could see clearly again. The same scene as before—Zack and Tifa in pools of red, the life bleeding from them slowly. The green glowed in the air, dark and poisonous. He shivered, wishing he could close his eyes. _

_Oh, how he hated the color green. _

_The world lurched forward again and suddenly the green condescend into eyes framed by silver, and more silver rushed towards him so fast he barely had time to blink before it pierced him, sliding through his chest with frightening ease. Fire erupted in his veins and his feet left the floor, but he still couldn't scream. The sound built within him, desperate to escape, yet his stubborn mouth refused to comply. _

_The green eyes seared him and he shook beneath their gaze. They burned more than the thing in his chest or the fires from before. They were insanity and rage and hate and __**death. **__Slowly, slowly they killed him, pulling the air from his lungs, crushing his very soul. He'd never felt anything more painful. _

_But then they were gone and the green was spread out beneath him like a sea. The fire and the cold steel vanished and he hurtled toward the green, watching it grow and encompass him. The minute it touched his skin, he could feel himself burning away. It ripped him to shreds and all he could feel was scorching agony. This, he realized, was what dying felt like. And a more horrible process he had never encountered. There was nothing now but the pain and the green, so much green. _

_Oh, how he hated the color green. _

* * *

_**Insignificant mortals. I will crush them like ants. **_

_**They will pay the price for their crimes. **_

_**I trusted him! He … he was supposed to be a hero!**_

_**Then … why? Why?! **_

_**What have we done to deserve this?!**_

* * *

_Finally, the green melted away to black again and the agony withered to ashes. Realizing he had control of his body, he carefully moved forward, walking across an unseen floor. He made no sound and all around the darkness was still and silent, yet somehow suffocating. He didn't know how long he walked for time held no meaning in this place. _

_At last, after what could have been seconds or an eternity, something glinted, reflecting a light that wasn't there. He staggered forward, hoping for a way out of this strange prison. Instead, he was faced with a cracked and broken mirror. The same mirror from before. Terror flooded him and he tried to run, but an unseen hand controlled him again—like a puppet on strings. It forced him towards the mirror and soon he was standing in front of it, quaking at the image in the glass that was him, but wasn't. _

_The face was his own, but the eyes were that poisonous green and filled with insanity. The twisted reflection grinned at him, even more distorted by the numerous cracks in the splintered glass. He tired to speak for the hundredth time and to his surprise he heard his own voice—weak and afraid. _

_"W-who, who are you?" _

_The image in the mirror tilted its head, regarding him with a sardonic smile. "You." _

_No, it couldn't … that couldn't possibly be him! That dark __**thing **__wasn't him and would never be. _

_Right? _

_"Liar," the mirror hissed. "Fool." _

_No, no, no. It couldn't be! It wasn't. It wasn't. This wasn't him. It wasn't. It __**wasn't**__. _

_"Why do you deny it?" The mirror asked without mockery. "I am you." _

_Then, it laughed. A horrible, twisted laugh that went on and on until it was inescapable. It tore apart everything he was and everything he'd ever be. Listening to that black sound, he could feel his heart being stripped away layer by layer until only vast emptiness remained. _

_Stumbling backwards, he fell to his knees and __**screamed. **_

* * *

_**Everything is burning. Even my sanity. **_

_**Everything is burning. Even my dreams.**_

* * *

Cloud bolted upright in his sleeping roll, instinctively covering his mouth to muffle the scream that tore itself from his throat. Tears trickled over his hands and dripped onto his lap, creating dark stains on the green fabric. In spite of the violent tremors wracking his body, the blond managed to extract himself from the confines of his sleeping bag and stumbled out of the camp, skirting around Tifa and the dying fire. He still possessed enough sense of practicality to grab his sword on the way, the small part of his brain that wasn't consumed by terror reminding him that monsters still roamed these parts and it was best to be safe.

The night was pitch black, bereft of the glow of the moon, and even with heightened senses Cloud still tripped over a rock and two bushes before he finally reached the protective cover of the trees. The small forest was cool and smelled faintly of moss. Fireflies danced through the trees like faeries and over his own harsh breathing, he could hear the faint babble of a brook. Clutching his sword tightly with both hands and trying desperately the escape the mind-numbing fear still churning through him, the blond headed slowly toward the stream. He flinched at every sound and glowing eyes constantly roved the shadows, expecting to see green eyes staring back from the darkness.

At last, the brook was in front of him and he tumbled to his knees at the edge of the water, dropping the sword with a muffled clang. With a shaky breath, Cloud leaned out over the water but it was too dark to see a reflection. Shivering, he wondered what he would have seen had there been enough light—his own face or the one from the mirror.

_"Who are you?" _

_"You." _

Cloud gritted his teeth and thrust his whole head into the icy water, hoping the cold shock would chase away the voices still lingering in his mind. When he resurfaced the voices were silent, but he still screamed into his hands, unable to keep the sound inside. He couldn't seem to stop shaking and those eyes wouldn't leave him alone. If only he knew the face they belonged to. Then, maybe, he could convince himself they weren't _his. _

"Cloud?" He was on his feet with the sword pointed at the newcomer before he even registered who had spoken.

Zack stared at him with wide eyes, hands raised in a gestured of surrender as the sword hovered inches from his face. "Whoa, easy, buddy. Its just me."

Cloud let go of the sword and stumbled back a few steps until his back hit a tree. He pressed himself against the rough bark and shook even harder, realizing with horror that he'd almost taken Zack's head off. Zack ventured a cautious step forward, trying to keep himself relaxed, though fear and worry pounded through his veins. Cloud looked like a trapped animal, torn between fleeing and fighting.

The image was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Cloud?" He asked again gently, hoping to get a verbal response out of the petrified blond.

Cloud bit his lip hard. "Z-Zack…." He wasn't sure what to do. A part of him wanted to run and never look back, while another part longed to just collapse against his best friend and let the other take all the fear and pain away.

As it was, Zack made the decision for him. Cautiously, the dark-haired man stepped up to Cloud and pulled him into a firm embrace. Cloud sagged in his arms, too tired to fight, and closed his eyes, warding off another wave of weak tears. Zack rubbed the spot between his trembling shoulders and spoke with a worry-laden voice. "Buddy, what's wrong? What happened?"

Cloud couldn't begin to put the dream into words. So instead, he asked the question he'd been meaning to ask for awhile, reminded by the voice from his dream. "What's … SOLDIER?"

He could have sworn he felt Zack flinch. "What makes you ask that?"

Cloud pulled back with a frown, knowing the other was dodging questions again. Zack watched him with guarded eyes and a carefully indifferent expression. "Aerith said I have eyes like a SOLDIER." He decided not to mention the voice in the dream that had sounded like his own.

This time he _saw _Zack flinch. Sensing another dodge coming, Cloud blocked the way with a firm demand, refusing to the let other retreat. "Don't lie to me, Zack."

Zack exhaled slowly and rubbed the back of his head, messing up his hair more than usual. "They're an elite fighting force in Shinra. They're mostly extinct now. Their eyes glow because they had a special surgery to help them perform at higher levels." Cloud suspected there was far more to it than that, but at least Zack had told him the truth.

There were still so many questions, though. So many blank pages to fill. "So… I was in SOLDIER?"

Yet another flinch. "No. _I _was in SOLDIER. First Class. The highest level." Cloud couldn't understand why Zack sounded so bitter.

"But then why…?" Nothing made sense.

Zack was running again, throwing up walls. "A lot of things happened…"

Cloud cut him off, fear and uncertainty yielding to newfound anger. "Why won't you tell me?! What are you hiding?!"

"Cloud…"

"No, Zack," Cloud interrupted again with a sharp shake of his head. "These are _my_ memories you're keeping from me! I just remember my name, Zack. That's _it_! I don't even remember you. How do I know you are who you say you are?! How do I know you aren't using me?"

Zack gaped, hurt flooding his face. "You … actually think that?" He whispered in fearful disbelief.

Cloud shrugged and looked away, finding more stable ground in the sight of the trees than Zack's penetrating stare. "I don't know what to believe. I keep having these dreams …"

"I don't want you to have to remember."

Zack's sudden admission startled him. Jerking his eyes back to his friend, he recoiled from the raw pain visible in everything from Zack's hunched shoulders to his downcast eyes. In a sad whisper, the ex-SOLDIER continued. "No one should have to remember that. I wish every day I could forget. Cloud … you shouldn't have to remember. You _shouldn't." _

In those moments, listening to Zack's aching, sincere confession, Cloud finally understood. He'd always suspected something horrible had happened to them. Zack had eluded to it more than once and beneath his smiles lay a man haunted by _something _dark. But now, Cloud realized that his past wasn't just horrible, it was _unspeakable_. A dark, twisted nightmare full of memories too ghastly to remember and too strong to ever forget. Zack still screamed in his dreams. Zack knew what it felt like to die. Zack wanted to protect him.

But as terrifying as his past might be, it was still _his. _

"Zack… I know it's awful but … it's who I _am." _His voice was rough and raw, like sandpaper against wood, and Zack glanced up at him with fierce eyes.

"No, it's not. You're still Cloud Strife. You don't need those memories to be whole, Cloud!" Zack's hands curled into fists and the pain on his face morphed into fiery conviction.

Cloud couldn't tell him that he needed to know so he could tell comprehend the difference between himself and the apparition in the mirror. Zack had enough burdens to carry. So, he said nothing and a tense, awkward silence fell between them. After a minute, Zack breathed a harsh sigh and closed the gap between them, pulling Cloud into another hug. Cradling the smaller man against him, Zack fought off his tears.

"I'll tell you someday. I promise."

"When's someday?" Cloud murmured in response.

"Soon." Zack heard Cloud sigh and understood the blond's frustration. They'd resolved nothing and for all their confessions, gotten no closer to eradicating the pain that plagued them both.

All because Zack was a weak, spineless coward who couldn't relive the memory of his best friend's screams.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight. You're planning on overthrowing the _entire_ company?"

"Basically, yes."

"Hmm. And then helping _rebuild_ the planet afterward?"

"Yes."

"And you need us Turks on your side."

"Yes. As many as we can get to join."

"Heh. And Heidegger and Scarlet will go rot in a prison cell?"

"For a very long time."

A wicked smirk crossed the redhead's lips. "Nice. Count me in."

* * *

**A note on the dream. The part in bold was used to separate out the different stages of the dream and is two peoples' thoughts. The same two every time. You should be able to tell who. ;P**

**Coming up next--"**Even the best laid plans ..."

* * *


	24. XXIII: Cid Highwind and the Tiny Bronco

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my own ideas. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Finally, an update! A long update, too. Life has been absolutely crazy, but long weekends are wonderful. XD **

**A huge, enormous, massive, thank you to the people that reviewed the last chapter. You guys set a new record and we're only two away from 300! You guys rock! Sephiroth, Zack, Cloud, Reno, and Rufus plushis for everyone. Take your pick. D Also, I apologize for those whose reviews I haven't replied to yet. I'm getting there. I promise. **

**Two notes on this chapter: **

**I know there aren't any hangers in Rocket Town, but I added them for the sake of story. In this story, there are more airships than just the Highwind and the Tiny Bronco. **

**Also, the _Tiny Bronco_ is a little less ... well ... tiny in this because AVALANCHE hanging on the wings all the way to Wutai is just impractical. D **

**I'll shut up now and let you all read. And review. Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait. **

* * *

When Aerith opened her eyes, she discovered a heartbreaking sight: Zack and Cloud sat on opposite sides of the fire pit, staring into the smoldering embers with equally vacant eyes. Cloud was curled up tightly with his arms around his knees in an echo of the previous night. Even from a few feet away, Aerith could clearly make out the dark rings underneath his eyes and the sickly pallor his skin. He looked washed out and completely drained of everything resembling life. Though different, Zack was no better. He rested his weight on his arms, palms flat against the ground behind him, with his legs stretched out in front of him so his feet barely brushed the edge of the fire circle. Aerith saw through the falsely casual position to the exhaustion underneath, exposed in his glazed eyes and drooped shoulders.

Something had happened the night before, that much was obvious. And it hadn't been anything good. Aerith sighed sadly as she slid out of her sleeping roll, noting that neither man looked up or acknowledged the noise.

_Why is it always one step forward and three steps back? _

She approached the fire cautiously, stepping over a still-sleeping Red, and clenched a fistful of her skirt in silent anxiety when Zack remained as lifeless as a statue.

_When are we going to make any real progress? _

"Zack?" She whispered through a dry throat.

Thankfully, Zack's eyes flickered back to life and he glanced up at her in mild surprise, noticing her presence for the first time. Cloud also raised his head, but his gaze was still horribly dead.

"Aerith, hey," Zack mumbled, pushing himself up into a proper sitting position. "I didn't see you there."

Aerith refrained from commenting on his lack of focus and forced a smile onto her rebelling face. "I just woke up."

Zack made a sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat and glanced at Cloud with a brief frown before looking back up at her. He lost the battle to keep his face neutral and let some of the weariness through, rubbing his bloodshot eyes wearily. "We've been up for awhile."

She knew he was really saying, _"we never slept," _but again she kept all her questions and concerns locked away. "Should I make breakfast?" Cloud's empty stare was sending shivers up and down her spine, but she didn't dare turn to look at him, knowing she wasn't quite brave enough to face the practically comatose blond. She longed to wrap them both up in her arms and sooth all the pain away, but they were stubborn and would never let her.

Zack managed a smile that wobbled a little but was sincere enough. "Sure. That would be great. I'll go wake the others up." He rose to his feet and turned away toward the others without a backward glance. Aerith wanted to order him to get some sleep, instead she knelt across from Cloud and began to stir the fire to life.

She could feel his eyes on her and when she glanced up, the brilliant orbs were more focused, slowly waking up. "Morning, Cloud."

He blinked a few times, looking as though he was breaking free from some kind of spell, and spoke softly. "Morning."

Aerith reached for the pot sitting on the edge of the circle and hefted it carefully, rising to her feet. "I'll go get water from the stream."

To her surprise, Cloud stood swiftly and reached for the large pot. "I'll do it." He took it from her easily. "I know where the stream is."

A protest surged to her lips, but she bit it back when she saw the almost pleading look Cloud gave her. He needed to do something, she realized, focus on something besides the demons haunting him. With a small smile, she nodded in consent, watching as he strode off across the field and vanished under the protective cover of the trees.

Around her, the camp was stirring back to life. Tifa was gathering supplies, Barrett and Red were rolling up sleeping bags, and Zack was collapsing the tents, which hardly anyone had slept in, preferring the open sky. Aerith went back to the fire and continued to coax the embers into flames. After a minute or so, she rocked back on her heels and admired the crackling fire. Not bad, for a city girl.

"Morning." Aerith glanced up in surprise at Tifa, who stood with her hands on her hips and a small smile on her face. "Nice fire."

Aerith grinned. "Thanks. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be."

Tifa plopped down beside the flower girl and began to pull her long hair into its customary bun. "You're a natural." She paused and looked around the camp with a frown. "Where'd Cloud go?"

Aerith sighed and drew a pattern in the dirt with one finger. "To get some water from the stream."

Tifa's sharp eyes assessed Aerith for a moment before darkening in understanding. "There's more to it than that, right?"

Aerith wiped her dirty hand on her skirt carelessly. "Yeah," she murmured. "I don't think either he or Zack slept last night. They both looked dead this morning. And they've barely said a word." Unconsciously, her hand curled into a tight fist, clenching a handful of fabric in a death hold. "I don't understand. In Costa del Sol, Zack seemed okay! But now…"

Tifa shook her head. "I know. It's backwards and forwards so much. I still don't understand those two."

"They don't want us to understand, it seems," Aerith grumbled.

Tifa looked over at Zack, watching as he stowed away the last tent. "Maybe, they want to protect us."

Aerith followed Tifa's gaze and smiled ruefully. "You're probably right, but I wish they wouldn't. Even heroes need help sometimes."

A sharp crack broke through the still morning air and all heads turned to the blond who emerged from the trees. He paused, blinking in surprise at the many eyes trained on him. "I stepped on a stick," he muttered defensively. After a moment, the others shook their heads and relaxed their battle stances, continuing with the task of breaking apart the camp.

Tifa chuckled softly and squeezed Aerith's hand as she stood. "I guess we just have to give them more time."

Aerith nodded reluctantly. "Yes, it's all we can do."

Cloud approached her and set the full pot down, trying to keep water from sloshing over the sides. "Is that enough?"

She bit her lip, trying to hold back her shock over the fact that the small blond had carried the heavy pot all the way back to camp with only one hand. "Yes, more than enough, Cloud. Thank you."

He shrugged indifferently, though his lips twitched upward briefly. "Is there anything else you need?"

Comprehending the hidden plea is his casual question. Aerith sent him off in search of firewood, then to help the others finish disassembling the camp. Finally, everyone gathered quietly around the fire for breakfast. Aerith dished out oatmeal, acutely aware of the tension humming in the air. The conflict from yesterday was far from resolved, it seemed.

At last, Zack spoke up, keeping his eyes fixed on his bowl. "We should reach Rocket Town by nightfall if we push the chocobos hard enough."

Barrett set his oatmeal down roughly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What's the plan, then?"

"Rocket Town has a lot airships housed there. It's where Shinra keeps most of its fleet. So, we'll sneak in, take one, and fly to Wutai."

Tifa frowned. "Do any of us know _how _to fly an airship?"

The members of AVALANCHE glanced at each other nervously. Zack ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I know enough to get us to Wutai."

Barrett looked skeptical. "You ain't gonna get us killed, right? 'Cause if we crash it's your fault."

Aerith frowned when she caught Zack's slight flinch and rushed to his defense. "Well, no one else can fly at all and airship is the only way to get to Wutai so we need to trust him. He isn't going to get us killed."

Zack shot her a grateful look and nodded. "Yeah. We'll be fine, Barrett." A bit of humor crept into his eyes and his voice turned sly. "Unless you want to swim to Wutai?"

Barrett snorted. "Shut up, kid."

Zack snickered and Aerith exchanged a knowing glance and amused eye roll with Tifa, feeling her heart lighten a little at Zack's slow return to normal. The ex-SOLDIER was the heart of their small band and when he was depressed or worried, everyone else felt it deeply. He had the power to inspire them to fight harder, go faster, be _better _or, on the other extreme, drag them down into a pit of despair and frustration. The only person who could really affect or change Zack's mood drastically was Cloud.

The blond still remained firmly in his shell, but it was beginning to crack under the combined pressure of the rest of the team. He actually smiled a little when Zack clapped him on the back and Barrett teasingly ordered him to eat up or he really would turn invisible.

Yes, Aerith thought as she climbed onto the chocobo behind Zack, it was one step forward and three steps back, but each step forward counted for something.

That was all that mattered.

* * *

"Sir, why are we going to Rocket Town?"

Rufus glanced up at Elena with a frown, realizing that he hadn't informed his bodyguard of his current mission. It was an uncharacteristic lapse in communication that he vowed would never happen again.

"The Old Man has asked that I inspect the airships there and select a few to bring back to Midgar to participate in the search for AVALANCHE."

The truck swayed as it hit a deep rut in the road and next to Rufus, Heidegger cursed vehemently as he fought for balance. Elena remained unruffled as always and casually helped him back up into his seat. He brushed her off with a quiet growl of irritation. "How long until we can meet up with the helicopter?"

Rufus glanced down at his PHS. "About fifteen more minutes."

Heidegger cursed again, but was ignored by the vice president and his Turk, who resumed their conversation as though nothing had happened and they were sitting in Rufus's office instead of the back of a truck bouncing across the plain.

"We have helicopters, sir. Aren't they enough?"

Rufus shook his head, closing his PHS and stowing it away in one swift movement. "No. Airships are bigger and can carry far more troops. Thus a more efficient search and adequate manpower should we find AVALANCHE."

Heidegger mopped some sweat from his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief. "Those blasted rebels. They'd better run while they can because when we find them, there'll be hell to pay."

Rufus nodded demurely. "Of course. It will only be a matter of time before the fools are caught. A group of six people cannot run from Shinra for very long."

Heidegger grunted in agreement. "Yes, and they'll get to die for their cause. Just like they seem to want."

"Yes," Rufus adjusted his fingerless gloves. "We are a generous company. Complying with their wishes is this least we can do."

Throughout the exchange Elena remained stoic, admiring Rufus's acting skills. The vice president really would have made an excellent Turk. He had Heidegger completely fooled. Even she couldn't see through his smug mask. Only knowledge of his true nature kept her from being swayed by this different, public version of Rufus Shinra.

Five minutes later, the truck stopped at the rendezvous point and the three climbed out onto the empty prairie. The sun beat down on them mercilessly from a cloudless sky and only a faint wind drifting through the tall grass provided any relief. The rolling fields stretched on forever without change and there was no sign of the helicopter.

Heidegger cursed. "I'll call headquarters, sir," He stalked away without waiting for a reply, yelling into his PHS at some poor, unfortunate soul back in Midgar. Once he was out of earshot, Rufus turned to Elena and allowed the walls to drop, showing her a different kind of satisfaction and a far more genuine smirk. He was pleased about something, though what she still couldn't guess.

"What is it, sir?" She asked, puzzled.

"Another Turk is on board," Rufus whispered.

Elena's eyes widened subtly before a small smirk pulled at the right corner of her mouth. "I see."

"He'll prove to be a good asset, I'm sure." A hint of relief flickered across Rufus's eyes. Another Turk meant another valuable ally and less complications down the road. Especially a Turk as skilled as Reno, arguably the best Turk they had.

"Yes, he won't let you down, sir."

Heidegger was approaching again, so Rufus ended the conversation with a brief dip of his head. Once the pudgy man had reached them, he mopped his brow again and scowled. "They said the helicopter had engine problems but another should be here within the next ten minutes. Hmph! The incompetence of people these days."

Rufus accepted the news with calm grace. "Then I suppose there is little to do but wait."

Heidegger grumbled but even his perpetual bad mood did little to dampen Elena's spirits. Reno had joined, which meant he probably wouldn't do anything stupid, which meant he'd be around to annoy her for awhile longer. She refused to acknowledge the fact that this changed little, that he was still _dying. _If she didn't think about it, then maybe it wouldn't happen.

For now, she would focus on protecting Rufus. For now, that was the one goal and purpose of her life. She couldn't fail.

The future of the Planet itself might depend on his survival.

* * *

It was dusk when the weary members of AVALANCHE crested the final hill and saw the lights of Rocket Town in the distance. The city was an odd blend of traditional and modern, dividing into two main sections: the peaceful, quiet village, and the large Shinra hangers that stood at the edge of the town, close to the giant rocket that rose toward the sky, gathering moss and rusting away from years of disuse. A tiny sliver of the moon provided feeble light to landscape, outshone by the lights of the small city below. The glow from the hangers was the most brilliant, illuminating the surrounding hills and the lonely rocket.

AVALANCHE paused on the hill, reining in their mounts.

"We can probably turn the chocobos loose now." Zack dismounted. "We won't need them anymore."

The others followed suit and began to pull their packs and equipment from the saddles before removing the saddles completely and hiding them in the nearby bushes. Yelling and clapping, they scared the great birds away, watching as they galloped off into the night. There was nowhere to go now but forward.

Hoisting his pack onto his shoulders, Zack signaled for the others to gather closer. All the tension from the morning was gone as the group focused on the mission at hand. They needed to be a team now, or they would never survive.

"All right," Zack began, glancing at the silhouettes of his comrades. It was far too dark to make out any definite facial features, only Cloud's glowing eyes stood out—blazing with quiet determination and a little worry. "We need to get to the hangers on the edge of town. That's where they keep all of their airships. Now, the last time I was there security wasn't all that tight, but that might've changed with us running around and everything. Shinra's certainly become more paranoid lately."

"So basically, sneak in, get a ship and fly out." Tifa's anxious frown was evident in her voice.

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "It isn't going to be easy since we can't exactly leave undetected, but I'm hoping that once we're in the airship they won't be able to stop us. Be prepared for a fight, though." He tried to keep his voice cheerful, but the underlying nervousness was plain.

Short of breaking out of the Shinra building, this would be the most difficult thing they had ever done. And they wouldn't have help this time.

* * *

The city was preparing for sleep when the rebels entered and the people on the street were either too tired, too busy, or too drunk to regard the newcomers with any more than passing interest. It was a small blessing that helped to soothe a bit of their inner turmoil. They slowly made their way through the jumble of houses and shops toward the hangers and distant rocket, hardly daring to harbor hope that this would be easier than they first thought. Once they were almost to their destination, Zack signaled for them to stop.

"We should split up. Cloud and I will go in and scout out the area. We blend in best."

Barrett growled in frustration and shook his head adamantly. "No, I'm sick a waitin' outside with the girls. I'm goin' with ya."

Red stood beside Barrett and leveled Zack with a stare that left no room for argument or protest of any kind. "I will go, as well."

Zack crossed his arms and frowned at them in frustration. "That will only make it harder to go undetected! You aren't exactly subtle, Barrett."

Aerith jumped in before the livid Barrett could retaliate, glaring at both the men with equal disappointment and irritation. "Stop it! We don't need another fight."

"Aerith and I will wait out here and make sure no one's coming. You all go and see if you can get into the hangers," Tifa interjected firmly.

"Yeah," Cloud swiftly agreed, participating for the first time in hours. "That's our best plan. We're wasting time."

Zack and Barrett exchange a brief, slightly hostile glance, but conceded. "Fine," Zack huffed, turning toward the hanger. "We'll be right back." The other men trailed after him hurriedly—only Red's glowing tail showing the girls proof of their progress. Soon, even that faint light was vanquished by the darkness.

For a few long minutes, the warrior and the flower girl simply stood side by side in the growing night, staring at the houses around them and the sharp relief of shadows and light created by the dim streetlamps. Suddenly, loud footsteps and raised voices shattered the calm, startling the two women.

"So Shinra thinks they can just walk in here like they own the place!"

"Umm…."

"I'm tellin' ya, Shera, you'd better have those airships in top shape by tomorrow! Understand?!"

"O-of course, sir."

"Hmph, good. Hopefully you won't screw this up, too! Honestly, don't know why I still keep ya around!"

"I'll see to it immediately, sir."

"Good. Get goin'! I'll be out working on the _Bronco. _Don't interrupt 'less it's an emergency!" A slight pause. "If fact, don't interrupt all!"

"Yes, sir.'

Tifa and Aerith exchanged baffled glances, then were forced to scramble out of the way or be plowed over by the man that suddenly materialized out of the shadows. He didn't even look at them as he brushed past and they only got a brief glance of goggles, rugged features, and a flight jacket before he was gone just as quickly as he'd come.

Tifa regained her balance and glowered in the direction the man had disappeared. "How rude! I should go give him a piece of my mind."

Aerith reached out and placed a steadying hand on her fuming companion's shoulder. "We should just ignore it. We don't want to cause trouble."

Tifa snorted. "Well he deserves it! Did you—"

"I'm so sorry!"

The girls once again turned abruptly, startled by the new voice—the same one from earlier. Another woman rushed up to them, the tails of her white lab coat flapping behind her. Her brown hair was pulled up into a tight bun and wisps of hair had escaped, falling into her eyes as she screeched to a halt, panting for breath.

Instantly concerned, Aerith moved to her side, placing a gentle had on her back. "Goodness, are you all right?"

The woman waved the flower girl away and straightened, trying to regain her composure. "I apologize for … the Captain. He's not… in the best … of moods."

With a huff, Tifa joined the group. "He almost ran us over!"

The woman wrung her hands anxiously. "I do apologize. He can be quite rude."

"Why was he yelling at you like that?" Aerith asked.

The woman smiled bitterly. "Well, I ruined his dreams."

"What?" Tifa exclaimed.

The woman sighed and brushed some of her disheveled hair off her forehead. "It's a long story. I'm, Shera, by the way." She extended a slender but calloused hand.

Tifa took it without hesitation. "Tifa."

Aerith shook Shera's hand warmly. "I'm Aerith."

Shera's smile was a few degrees warmer. "It's nice to meet you. If you don't mind me asking, what are two girls like you doing out here all alone in the dead of night? You're not from around here, are you?"

"We just got into town," Tifa said evasively, knowing Shera was with Shinra. The lab coat gave everything away.

"I see." Thankfully, Shera didn't pry. "Well, would you like some tea? My house is just over there." She pointed to a two-story cottage across the street surrounded by a white picket fence and neatly trimmed bushes.

Aerith and Tifa glanced at each other with hesitation, knowing they were supposed to wait for the others to return. But they would look suspicious just standing around in the street after dark.

"Tea sounds wonderful," Aerith said with a smile, deciding the men would just have to wait or come looking.

Tifa nodded and Shera actually grinned, delighted to have female company—a rare thing in this world of men she occupied. A few minutes later, Tifa and Aerith were seated at a round, wooden table watching Shera pull odds and ends from cupboards, set a kettle on the stove, and search for tea packets, all the while whistling merrily to herself.

"So, Shera," Aerith ventured, "I'm curious about that story."

Shera frowned, but nodded in reluctant assent. "Very well, I suppose there's no harm in telling you. But on one condition." She raised a finger and smiled slyly. "You have to tell me a bit about yourselves in return."

With another conspiring look, the two girls nodded simultaneously. "All right."

Shera adjusted the burner and sat down opposite of Aerith and Tifa, folding her arms on the table and regarding them with serious brown eyes. "You know that rocket sitting out in the field?" When the others nodded, she gave them a self-depreciating smile. "That's my fault." She traced a pattern on the wood with her forefinger. "The Captain was going to be a hero. The first man in space. It had been his dream for years. But when it came time for the launch, I screwed it up."

"How?" Aerith inquired, leaning forward intently.

Shera sighed and tilted her head up to the ceiling. "I stayed behind to check on something and as a result, got trapped on the rocket. Either the Captain launched it and reduced me to cinders or he cancelled the launch." She made a vague gesture in the direction of the old rocket. "I think you can guess what his decision was."

Tifa managed a smile. "Well, at least he cares about you."

Shera nodded. "Yes, but he blames me. And I deserve it. I'll do anything to make up for that stupid mistake. Him yelling at me really isn't that bad. He yells at everyone. And he let's me stay around and help him. That counts for something, right?"

Aerith reached across the table and took the other woman's hand gently. "Of course it does."

Shera gave them a wan smile and pulled her hand away as the kettle began to whistle shrilly. "And that would be the tea." She hurried to the stove and poured steaming water into three mugs. "So, now it's your turn. How did you two end up in Rocket Town of all places? It isn't exactly a tourist destination."

Tifa chuckled. "Well, we're just passing through."

"Just the two you?" Shera asked as she dipped tea bags into the mugs.

Aerith fiddled with her hair in an echo of Zack's typical nervous gesture. "No, there's a few more of us."

"Define a few. And where could you possibly be going? The only thing beyond here is the sea, and Wutai." She paused, realization dawning on her features. When she returned to the table her gaze was sharp and assessing, making both women uncomfortable. "You're going to Wutai, aren't you?"

Tifa frowned as Aerith shifted her weight. "Perhaps."

Shera arched a curious eyebrow. "Whatever for?"

"A number of reasons." A defensive note crept into Tifa's voice.

Shera raised a hand in a gesture of peace. "Hey, I won't pry. Though, I can guess. And I can guess why you are here. I'm not stupid, you know. Just don't get caught and you really should ask the Captain before you try to take one of his ships." She smiled ruefully. "He's very possessive of them."

Both Aerith's and Tifa's eyes widened in shock as they stared at the other woman calmly sipping her tea. "H-how?" Aerith stammered.

The corner of Shera's mouth lifted in a faint smile. "There are bulletins out everywhere about a rebel group on the move and you're being incredibly evasive. People don't just come to Rocket Town, or even pass through without a good reason. And if you are the rebels, the best place to hide would be Wutai. Shinra still doesn't have much influence there."

Tifa's gaze hardened and she clenched one hand into a fist on the table. "If you try to turn us in…"

"I won't tell anyone," Shera interrupted gently. "Don't worry. I don't care that much for Shinra myself. Who does?" She finished her tea and stood with another bright smile. "In fact, why don't you stay here for the night! I have plenty of room and the Captain will probably be out in the hanger until dawn, anyway. He's anxious about Shinra's arrival."

Aerith gasped. "Shinra is coming here?!"

Shera nodded. "Yeah, the vice president is, at least. Though, none of us are sure why. Maybe they want to resume funding the space program, though I doubt it. It's quite possible they're looking for you."

Tifa hissed in frustration the same instant her PHS began blaring loudly. Startled, the warrior fumbled for the device for a moment before locating it and answering the incoming call. "Hello?"

Zack's voice , high-pitched and worried came through the faint static on the line. "Where are you?!"

Tifa smiled sheepishly at Aerith and Shera. "Ummm … in the house across the street with the picket fence having tea."

Stunned silence, followed by an incredulous. "What?!"

"The lady is very nice, she's offering us a place to stay for the night."

"Seriously?" Zack sounded amazed.

Tifa rolled her eyes. Aerith giggled. "Yes, seriously. Just come on over. There's plenty of tea for everyone."

Zack grumbled something inaudible before hanging up. Tifa pocketed the phone and smirked. "They'll be over in a minute."

Almost as soon as the words had left her mouth, the door opened and the four other members of AVALANCHE filed into the room, looking wary, hungry, and tired. Shera welcomed them with a warm smile and an offering composed of tea and cookies. Unable to turn down sustenance, the men joined the girls around the table and soon conversation was flowing. The others heard a retelling of Shera's story and expressed their sympathies.

"It sounds like Shinra has taken something from us all," Zack observed at the second round of tea, glancing around the table at the suddenly somber faces. "Lives, homes, dreams, the list is endless, isn't it?"

"Yes," Tifa agreed quietly. "But we can't let them beat us."

Shera began to clear the mugs from the table. "No." Her tone was fervent. "We can't. Otherwise everything is lost."

Silence trailed in the wake of the somber statement and lasted for a few long moments before it was abruptly shattered by the front door banging open to reveal a greasy, very grumpy pilot. Cid Highwind froze and gaped in surprise at the group crowded into his kitchen before predictably erupting.

"What are all these people doing here?!"

Shera nervously wrung her hands. "W-well, you see, they needed a place to stay…"

"And you think we have room?!"

"Umm…"

Zack shot to his feet and glared at Cid. "Relax! We'll leave if it's too much trouble, but you don't have to yell at her like that!"

Cid turned to return the glare vehemently, lips clenching tightly around the toothpick in his mouth. "Watch it, punk! This is my house!"

"That's why I said we'll leave if we're causing too much trouble!"

"Well, apparently you are, so get out!"

"Captain!"

"Zack, please!"

Aerith and Shera moved hurriedly to stand in between the two men. While Shera held up her hands in a placating gesture, Aerith placed hers against Zack's chest and looked up at him imploringly. "Please," she whispered. "I know it hurts. I know you're tired. I know you're frustrated. But please, we need this."

Zack let his anger drain away slowly and smiled guiltily. "Sorry," he murmured, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

Aerith returned the smile and glanced at Cid, who seemed to have calmed down as well.

"I suppose you can stay the night," he grumbled reluctantly.

Zack dipped his head in a slight show of respect. "Thank you."

Cid snorted and grabbed a mug of tea and a handful of cookies before heading back towards the door. "I'll be out in the hanger."

The door slammed closed behind him and once the last echoes of the harsh sound had faded, Shera turned to the others with a slightly pained smile. "I'll go find some blankets. Make yourselves comfortable."

Tifa and Aerith rushed to help, ignoring Shera's protests, while the others began to move furniture to make room, setting their packs in the corner. The tension in the air still felt thick and so weighty Zack could feel himself bending beneath the pressure.

It was going to be a long night. The sooner they reached Wutai, the better.

* * *

The next day dawned clear, bright, and just as hot as the previous one. Zack hurriedly shook his comrades awake. They need to leave as soon as possible or risk getting caught. He felt a twinge of guilt over stealing one of the airships when Shera had been so kind to them. No doubt she would get in trouble for it and Cid Highwind looked like he had quite a nasty temper.

_But it's nothing compared to what Shinra will do to us if we're caught. _

Repressing a shudder, Zack hefted his bulky pack onto his shoulders and eyed the rest of AVALANCHE, most of whom were still rubbing sleep from their eyes. Only Cloud and Red looked completely alert.

"Which ship?" Red asked, purposely leaving the question vague.

"I'll point it out," Zack replied, glancing around the empty house. Hopefully, Highwind and Shera wouldn't return and catch them leaving. "We should go."

"Wait!" Aerith cried and hurried over to the kitchen table. Zack watched in puzzlement as she bent down and scribbled a quick message on the pad of paper lying in the middle. When she noticed Zack's inquiring stare, she looked up and smiled. "I'm just thanking her. She was very kind to us."

"Yeah," Zack agreed, grateful for Aerith's thoughtfulness. She really was the heart of their little group.

"Now we can go." Aerith walked back to join the others, fixing the ribbon in her hair and the sleeves on her dark brown jacket as she did.

"'Bout time," Barrett grumbled, wiping the last particles of sleep from his bleary eyes. "I'm sick a all this runnin'. Sooner we get outta here, the better."

Zack's lips twitched in the echo of smile as Barrett unconsciously repeated the same things he'd dwelled on the night before. "Yeah." Everyone looked a little surprised that he was agreeing with the burly man. "We all need rest."

"So what are we waiting for!" Tifa exclaimed and opened the front door. She looked out at the quiet town for a moment, before gasping and shutting the door so quickly she nearly tore it off its hinges.

AVALANCHE frowned at her strange behavior, utterly confused and a little concerned.

"Tifa?" Cloud took a step closer to the wide-eyed warrior, eyes searching her face for clues to her sudden actions. "What's wrong?"

He moved to open the door again, but Tifa pulled him back with a hiss. "No. Rufus Shinra's out there!"

A collective cry of shock echoed through the room, drown out by the cacophony of voices that followed as everyone began speaking at once.

"_What?!" _

"The vice president?"

"What is he doing here?!"

"Do you think they followed us?!"

"This is bad. Really, really, really bad."

"Everyone should just calm down!"

Five pairs of eyes jerked to Red and the room fell instantly silent. Red sighed and nodded his head at the door. "It should be easy to sneak past him, correct? All we have to do is go out the back door and skirt around the town to the hangers."

Zack chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah. Unless he brought a bunch of guards with him."

"No guards," Cloud spoke up from the window. "Just a man in white—Rufus?—a man in green, and a woman in a suit."

Zack cursed softly. "Rufus, Heidegger and a Turk. What color hair does she have?"

Cloud glanced out the window again. "Blonde."

"Elena," Zack murmured and cursed again. "We probably don't stand a chance if it's her. She's tough, and sharp."

"I still say we try," Aerith interjected with determination.

"Yeah," Tifa agreed. "We haven't come this far just to give up!"

Barrett clenched his metal fist. "We can take on one little Turk!"

Zack fought to keep a straight face, but an amused smile stole across his lips defiantly. "All right. You win. Let's do this."

"We should go now," Cloud closed the curtains and turned to the group. "They're busy talking to Shera and the Captain."

"Right." Zack brushed his fingers across the hilt of his sword, strapped securely to his pack. "Where's this back door, Red?"

Red shot him a skeptical look. "You are certain you were a First Class SOLDIER?"

Zack huffed in outrage. "Yes, I'm certain. Jeez. So I don't know where the back door is," he smirked and his voice turned teasing, "I can still kill you in less than ten seconds."

Red eyed the Buster Sword with a small degree of apprehension. "True. I suppose I can show you the back door."

The group followed Red through the small cottage to a plain wooden door that opened up into a lovely backyard with a few bushes and several beds of colorful flowers. While Aerith admired the beautiful flowers, Zack shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe someone like Highwind lives here."

Barrett disguised his amused snort behind a cough as they weaved their way through the bushes and tried not to trample the flowers. Climbing over the short picket fence, AVALANCHE began the perilous journey to the hangers. The shadows were their only cover and they moved from building to building as silently as possible, like wraiths, pausing only briefly to watch Cid yell in the vice president's face about dreams, the sky, and the injustice of Shinra. They could sympathize with the man, but were powerless to help. When Elena's sharp gaze brushed over the shadows concealing them, they hurriedly continued on their way, not wishing to face the formidable Turk in any form of combat.

At last, the village was behind them and they were in the shadows of the massive hangers. A few guards mingled about with one or two mechanics, but for the most part the place was completely deserted—abandoned long ago when Shinra turned its interest to more profitable things.

Zack led them to the last of the four hangers and knelt in front of the service door with one of Aerith's bobby pins in hand. Picking the lock took far longer than anyone liked.

"It would have gone so much faster with Biggs here," Zack muttered and tried to ignore the pain he felt running through the group at the mention of their dead comrade.

Had it really only been a week since the plate?

Refusing to dwell on the fires of the past, Zack doubled his efforts and at last the lock opened with a satisfying 'click,' allowing them entrance. With a faintly triumphant smile, Zack pulled open the door and entered the dim, cool hanger. It was colossal, rising dozens of feet above them, and extending on for what seemed like miles. Only two airships occupied the large space—an intricate-looking one with many propellers, decks, docking bays, and "Highwind" painted across the side in red; the other was a much smaller ship with only a few propellers and barely enough room for the group to fit on its one command deck. "The Tiny Bronco" was scrawled on the side in yellow and it was toward this ship Zack led the group.

"Are you sure that junk heap is going to get us to Wuati?" Tifa asked with a great deal of skepticism.

Zack grinned at her. "Sure it will. This thing has more spunk to it than it looks. Most airships do. She'll get us there."

Aerith was staring at the ship with wide eyes, realizing for the first time they would have to _fly _to reach their destination. "I have a bad feeling about this."

* * *

It wasn't easy to remain calm in the face of Cid Highwind's anger. The man could send many cowering with a just glare and yelling would result in them fainting on the spot. However, Rufus Shinra was not most men and had dealt with yelling in some form or another for the better part of his life, so he stood straight and tall and accepted Cid's fury with quiet indifference.

The airship pilot wasn't nearly as bad as Heidegger.

Speaking of Heidegger, the man's face was beginning to resemble a lobster and he was starting to shake in a rather unseemly fashion. Glancing at Elena from the corner of his eye, Rufus decided they needed to end this as quickly as possible before it descended into a full-scale fist fight.

"Captain Highwind," he began, cutting off the other man mid-rant. "I'm sorry, but these ships were built for Shinra and we need all of them. AVALANCHE is a dangerous group and they must be apprehended for the safety of our Planet." The woman behind Highwind turned strangely pale when he mentioned the rebel band and her gaze kept flicking back to the house with the picket fence down the street.

Could it possibly be…

Comprehending the full magnitude of the situation, Rufus wasn't sure whether to laugh at the irony or cry from frustration. As Heidegger yelled something at Highwind, who returned the favor with an insult full of curses, Rufus fought the nearly overwhelming urge to go hit his head against something until he passed out.

_AVLANCHE, you had better get out of here quickly or I'll arrest you after all. You are honestly not worth all this. _

As though they had heard his words, a loud roar suddenly drowned out Heidegger and Highwind and everyone turned to gape at the airship that was coasting out of the hanger toward the runway. For a minute, all anyone was capable of was staring like wide-eyed idiots, but then Highwind exploded into motion, running toward the airship with terrifying speed, yelling at the rebels at the top of his lungs. Stupefied, Rufus, Heidegger, and Elena watched as the airship pilot grabbed onto the plane and pulled himself aboard, still cursing a blue streak.

The ship accelerated and lifted off the ground, shooting toward the sky like a bullet from a gun. Jerking himself out of his stupor, Rufus wrenched his shotgun from its holster and aimed it at the plane. They were still close enough. He could pull off a shot that would hit them but not cripple them, so Heidegger would have nothing too horrible to report back to his father. Squinting in concentration, the vice president lined up the shot and prepared to fire, allowing himself a small smirk.

It was perfect; he couldn't miss.

Unfortunately for Rufus several things happened at once to undermine his plan. Up on the airship, an angry Cid lunged for the wheel—_"What the hell are you doing with my ship?!"—_the ship veered to left, and Rufus fired. The resulting explosion was nearly deafening and a black plume of smoke rapidly spiraled toward the sky as the airship descended into a tailspin, debris and smoke trailing in its wake.

Rufus blinked, watched in mild horror as the ship disappeared from view behind a mountain, and blinked again, trying to process what had just occurred.

_I … I killed them. Why'd they swerve? Idiots…_

Chortling, Heidegger slapped the vice president hard of the back. "Amazing, sir! That was an excellent shot!"

Briskly pulling together his composure, Rufus straightened his jacket and said with great dignity, "Yes, yes it was."

Behind him, Elena tried not to roll her eyes.

* * *

"Great! This is just great! Now what?!" Tifa threw up her hands in frustration and plopped down next to Aerith on top of the floating plane. The flower girl was clutching her wet skirt and looked as pale as a ghost.

"I-I'm _never _flying again. _Never._" Barrett awkwardly tried to comfort her, while Cloud knelt next to Tifa, just as wan and shaky as Aerith.

"Same here. Hate airships." Tifa smiled sympathetically at him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm with you on that one." She wiped away a trickle of blood running down her cheek from a small cut and looked around at the dazed group, realizing two people were missing. "Hey, where's Zack and Highwind?"

Red shook water out of his fur and peered at the waves, searching for signs of life in the expanse of blue. "I do not see them." He paused and caught sight of a dark head bobbing a few yards away. "Wait, I see Zack. And he has Captain Highwind with him."

The ex-SOLDIER pulled himself up onto the wreckage a few moments later, hauling Cid with him and coughing up copious amounts of water. "I-Is everyone okay?" He finally asked, forcing the words out of a throat rubbed raw by salt.

Everyone nodded, except Cid, who had opened his eyes and realized the damage done to his ship. "What?!" He cried, surging to his feet. "What happened to my ship?! You crashed it!"

Zack wiped a hand across his mouth, ridding his lips of any more traces of salt, and frowned. "Actually, Shinra shot it down."

"Yeah, but you stole it so it's your fault! What were you thinking?!" Cid bent over the side of the airship, trying to peer inside.

"We gotta get to Wutai!" Barrett roared. "So quit your complainin'!"

Cid muttered a few curses, but otherwise didn't acknowledge the other man and Aerith put a firm hand on Barret's arm, keeping him from taking things any further.

"This is my ship," Cid declared at last, rising to his feet and glaring daggers at Zack. "And I'm takin' her back to Rocket Town where she belongs."

Zack crossed his arms and matched the glare, glowing eyes cutting Cid to ribbons. "No," he said in a voice colder than anyone had ever heard. "We are going to _Wutai." _

Cid noticed two things that saved him from an untimely death: the huge sword strapped to Zack's back and the glowing eyes that were a mark of SOLDIER. And this wasn't just any SOLDIER. It was a tired, wet, grumpy, frustrated SOLDIER who could kill someone before he could blink. Ultimately, Cid made a very wise decision.

"I've always wanted to see Wutai."

* * *

"Wutai?"

"Yes," Rufus said, turning away from the Junon sunset to stare at the surprised redhead.

Reno frowned in confusion. "Why do I need to go to Wutai?"

Rufus paused for a moment before answering stiffly. "I need you to make sure AVALANCHE is still alive."

Reno's eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

Another very long pause. "I shot them out of the sky."

Reno's lips parted, but no sound came out, and he frowned again, trying to understand this bizarre turn of events. At last he ventured another inquiry. "Why?"

Rufus, looking incredibly miffed, answered with more than a little defensiveness. "It was their fault."

"Oh," Reno said, catching Elena's eye roll and trying not to laugh. He would be sure to get the details from her later. "I see."

"So for the next two weeks you're on vacation."

Deciding not to push the vice president further, Reno nodded. "All right, sir. I've always wanted to vacation in Wutai."

* * *

**Coming up next--"**What do you mean your materia's gone?"


	25. Interlude: PS I Love You

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my own ideas, everything else belongs to Square Enix.

**Well, I know I promised you guys Wutai, but I haven't had the time or energy to sit down and write out a whole big long actiony chapter so I did this little interlude instead. It's kind of a way of phasing the story into the next arc: the Wutai Arc. This story is naturally divided up into different arcs so I want to try to start separating them with interludes. **

**Wutai _is _coming. I promise. **

**A lot of people have been asking me for more Cloud/Tifa, so this my gift to you guys. :D **

Read, and review!

* * *

_Dear Mom, _

_Things are going fairly well here in Midgar. It's so much bigger. And I admit, I miss the stars and the fresh air. I feel like I'm constantly suffocating here, with all the pollution in the air. Don't ever come to Midgar. It really is a filthy city. And I haven't even seen the slums yet. Not really sure I want to. It makes Nibelheim seem like a wonderful place. I feel lost here. Like a tiny speck amidst millions. _

_Anyway, I don't want to make you sad. I'm sorry._

_The training program is pretty intense but I'm making it. I've met quite a few other hopeful cadets and my platoon is … nice. We haven't been on any missions yet, but it won't be long before they start deploying us. The food here is pretty horrible and the beds are hard. We wake up every day at sunrise and collapse back into bed long after dark. I've never felt more exhausted in my life. But each training session is one step closer to my dream. I'll make it into SOLDIER. Just you wait. _

_How are you? I hope everything is going well. I've included some gil in this check to help you get by and don't you dare send it back. This was _my _choice, remember? _

_I miss you, Mom. A lot. Take care of yourself, understand? _

_And oh … if … it's not too much trouble … could you … say hi to Tifa for me? _

_Your son, _

_Cloud_

* * *

She read through the lines and always saw the things he wasn't saying. That he was lonely, nervous, and lost in a world a thousand times bigger than the one he'd spent his whole life in. He had a dream, but it was a big one. Perhaps too big to ever accomplish. But he wasn't doing it for the dream. No, this was all for the mother he'd left behind, who slipped a little further away with each passing day. He suffered for her, traveled thousands of miles away from home for her, gave up everything for her, because she was all he had.

Tifa saw all these things, in his letters.

Every time a check came in the mail, she'd finger it and wonder if it was every penny of his wages. Had he kept any for himself? Was he doing all right? Really? Or was he suffering the same prejudice he had here? She found herself asking these questions over and over in her mind. Now that he was gone, she couldn't stop thinking about him, wondering about him, and what it would have been like if he hadn't left.

She missed him, she realized.

That night at the well had changed something. When he'd spoken to her for the first time, he had somehow wormed his way into her heart and anchored himself deep. Now, he was stuck there forever. She longed to talk to him more, to see him smile, find out was his laugh was like, and get to know him better. What was his favorite color? Favorite food? What was Midgar really like? What were his real hopes and dreams and fears?

Who _was _he?

She drank in every letter as though he'd written it for her. Every time she got one, she would run straight to Mrs. Strife's house and read it aloud, hanging off every word penned in his surprisingly neat handwriting. Sometimes, Mrs. Strife would understand who the letter was from, but other times she just smiled and asked when she'd get to meet this boy Tifa liked so much and where her son was. It always saddened Tifa, seeing the petite blond woman slowly slip further into insanity.

But she still read the letters and refused to give up. One day, six months after he'd left for Midgar, she worked up the courage to write him a letter of her own.

* * *

_Dear Cloud, _

_I'm writing for your mother. She wanted me to send you a letter … no … that's not true. Don't get me wrong, I know she would want a letter sent to you but the fact that you're actually _gone _hasn't really sunk in yet. So, I'm writing this letter because … well I'm not sure why. I guess I just wanted to say hi and let you know that haven't forgotten about you. I actually … well … miss you. Isn't that strange? I don't … even … know you, but I still … ugh. _

_I want to find out more about you. Let's make a deal, okay? In each letter we will tell each other three facts about ourselves. How does that sound? That way, we can really become friends. _

_If that's okay with you._

_Sincerely, _

_Tifa_

* * *

The first time he got a letter from her he nearly fainted in shock. She was actually writing him? It was hard to believe. He'd thought that after saying good-bye she would forget he ever existed in the first place.

Apparently, he had been wrong for once.

After the shock wore off, he read her letter over and over until it got food stains all over it and the ink was faded to point of illegibility. By then, he had memorized every word. She wanted to get to know him? She wanted to be _friends? _And while his heart sang at this, the bitter part of him wondered why he'd needed to _leave _for her to acknowledge him. Why did she want to be friends _now? _Why not in Nibelheim?

But in spite of his doubts, he couldn't bring himself to ignore her.

She was far too important for that.

* * *

_Dear Tifa, _

_Of course I want to be friends. It would be nice … to have a friend. _

_Three things about me? Really? Well … _

_My favorite color is black. I like it when it rains. And … I like salty food. _

_How's that? _

_Oh, things are going pretty well here. Training is still as grueling as ever, but I'm still alive. If you .. care. _

_Sincerely, _

_Cloud _

* * *

_Dear Cloud,_

_Of course I care, silly! Are you .. sure you're doing okay? You don't have to lie to me, Cloud. I don't … know you that well, but I … I think I can see what you're hiding. So, if you ever want to tell me anything, I'll listen. _

_As for my three things. I love hiking in the mountains. I love the sun. And my favorite color is red. _

_Your mother is doing well. She says to say hello and make sure to let you know that she loves you and misses you. She's been having a lot of better days lately. The medication is definitely helping. _

_And don't worry, the gil you're sending is enough to pay for it. _

_Not much else to report. You know Nibelheim. _

_Sincerely, _

_Tifa_

* * *

_Dear Tifa, _

_Thanks. It's nice to know … someone cares. Things aren't … well … the other guys don't … like me all that much. But it's not a big deal. Nothing … I can't handle. It just … gets lonely, sometimes. Midgar is so _big. _Big and full of unfriendly faces. I always feel lost in the tide. And … some of my commanding officers tend to think ill of me since I'm well … not all that tall and I tend to … screw things up … a lot. I mean .. the mission gets done but … sometimes we get in trouble because I didn't … exactly follow orders … but … it was always for a good reason. _

_You … probably don't want to be hearing any of this. I'll stop. _

_How are you? _

_Oh yeah, my three things. I like stargazing. I like nighttime better than daytime. I'm a pretty good shot with a gun. _

_Sincerely, _

_Cloud _

* * *

_Dear Cloud, _

_I'm sorry things are difficult for you. I can't imagine what it must be like, being alone is such a huge city. You really are brave. I don't think I could do what you are. I'm … proud you, Cloud. Chin up, right! You can do it. Show them what you're made of! I'm rooting for you. _

_And I want to hear it, all of it. Don't worry. _

_Sometimes, I feel suffocated here. In this small town. I'd like to get away from my father and see Midgar for myself someday. Maybe I can come visit you! _

_Your mother has had a few bad days and been pretty sick lately, but don't worry, she's recovering well. _

_My three things are: I like summer better than winter. I like to read. I'm getting good at martial arts. _

_Sincerely, _

_Tifa_

* * *

And so it went, for months. Letter after letter, until a friendship bloomed from the pages, wrapping them both up in a loving embrace. They were miles apart, in two different worlds, but closer to each other than anyone else they knew. On the parchments they emptied out their souls for the other to see, unlocking door after door along the path to their hearts.

Neither one could explain what kept them writing, only that they did and what they had was something special they never wanted to give up.

But for all their understanding and perception when it came to each other, they always missed the most important line, written in invisible ink at the very bottom of the page. The thing never spoken, but always present, that if discovered could change their world even further.

_P.S. I love you._

* * *


	26. XXIV: The Princess Thief

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and its characters belong to Square Enix. I own nothing except my own ideas.

**Yes guys, your eyes do not deceive you. This is indeed an update. Please don't kill me for taking ... (cough) ... almost three months to update. It's been crazy with finals and other stuff coming up. Finally, I got a few days off to sit down and type this out. Hopefully, it's worth the wait. There's a few notes on Wutai at the end to help with clarification. **

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and stuck with this story so far. Love you guys! XD **

* * *

"Land!"

Zack pitched forward onto his hands and knees, watching his gloves sink into the white sand with childish glee. The warm, rough grains covered his hands all the way up to his wrists and clung tightly to his wet skin as he plunged his arms deeper in both delight and an attempt to ward off the chill of the sea that had settled deep in his bones. Even as he sighed and placed his cheek against the tepid sand, his teeth chattered uncontrollably and small tremors racked his body—present even through the mako that usually made him invincible to the elements.

Behind him, the other members of AVALANCHE also slumped to the ground with sighs and exclamations of relief. After nearly twelve hours at sea, everyone had begun to doubt that they would ever reach the safety of dry land. Now, the white expanse of sand and the exotic trees stretching their gnarled limbs toward the grey sky was the most beautiful sight in the world. Aerith raised green eyes wide with wonder to the forest so vastly different from the steel world of Midgar as Barret tried to clear his eyes of stinging salt, Red shook water from his fur, Tifa wrung out her sopping hair, and Cid stared mournfully at the remains of his ship.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The flower girl glanced up in surprise as Cloud crouched down beside her. Though he had spoken to her, his eyes remained fixed on the forest with deep contemplation.

Happy he was making an effort at conversation, Aerith smiled. "Yes. I've never seen anything like it."

Cloud's eyes narrowed slightly and another layer of glaze covered them as they turned inward, ignoring the forest in favor of forgotten memories. "Somehow, I think I have. A long time ago."

Aerith forced away the urge to question him and studied the side of his face. He didn't seem sad, merely contemplative. "I wouldn't be surprised if you have," she offered in a carefully neutral tone.

Cloud shrugged and finally looked at her with a self-depreciating smile that for once sparked something close to humor in his eyes. "I suppose I could try to drag it out of Zack."

Aerith chuckled, pleased at his good mood. "Good luck with that. He's incredibly stubborn when he wants to be."

"What's this about me?" The subject of their conversation asked as he crab-walked over to them. Flopping on his back, the ex-SOLDIER reached up and yanked Cloud down into a sitting position by the back of his shirt. Cloud let out a startled "oof" as he hit the sand and turned to glare at a grinning Zack. Aerith hid her giggle with the back of her hand—excited to see a light and _normal _moment between them.

For a minute, all the heavy baggage of the past fell away and they were just friends.

"Your legs will cramp if you crouch for too long," Zack pointed out helpfully.

"Humph. You could've warned me."

"Where's the fun it that?"

"You're impossible."

A hint of pain flashed through Zack's eyes faster than a blink and he smiled widely to cover it. "But you love me anyway."

Cloud snorted softly. "Keep telling yourself that."

Another flash; the smile grew. Zack tilted his head back so he could see Aerith's face and didn't let the smile fade, even in the face of the quiet concern she displayed. "You love me, right?"

Deciding she would play along, Aerith tilted her head and regarded Zack with a playful smile. "Well … I don't know…."

His hurt puppy look was priceless. "Aeerrithh … that's mean," he whined childishly as Aerith laughed and Cloud chuckled quietly.

"Silly," she said, brushing wet strands of hair from his brilliant eyes. "Of course I love you."

He smiled at her lazily and suddenly he was the Zack who had crashed through her roof and asked her out on a date less than five minutes after he regained consciousness. The Zack who had easily and swiftly pulled her from her shell into a brand new world. The Zack who had hugged her good-bye and walked out of her life forever. The beginnings of tears rose her throat and pricked at her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them touch her face.

Zack's smile finally slipped away and she was aware of Cloud's curious gaze so she hurriedly rushed to collect herself.

"I'm fine," she whispered in response to their unspoken question.

"What's going on over here?" A shadow fell over Aerith, obscuring Zack's face. The flower girl tilted her head upward and met garnet eyes peering down over a faintly curious smile.

"Hi, Tifa," Zack remarked pleasantly. "How's everyone over there?"

Tifa shrugged, raking a few strands of wet hair from her face. "Fine. Barret and Red are arguing over something and Cid is crying over his beloved airship. I'm just glad we made it."

Cloud sighed. "Yeah. That was a long trip. I'd rather not go in the ocean again any time soon."

Zack pushed himself into a sitting position and clapped Cloud on the shoulder. "Yeah, buddy. I'm with you on that one."

Tifa crouched down beside them and stared at the mountains that towered on the horizon, filling the cloudy sky. "What now?" she murmured softly.

Zack followed her gaze and his tired eyes roamed across the mountains in search of something only he knew needed to be found. "We cross those. The capitol city is on the other side."

Tifa groaned under her breath. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."

"How long?" Aerith asked, wondering if such imposing mountains could be crossed by any mere man.

Zack rubbed the back of his head, suppressing another sigh. "Three, four days maybe, depending on how fast we travel. How many supplies do we have?"

"We lost most of them in the crash," Tifa replied grimly. "But I think we have at least two packs between us."

"Not enough to feed seven people for three days," Cloud muttered darkly.

Zack absently patted him on the shoulder again as he climbed to his feet. "We'll make it. We've got to."

Tifa brushed sand from her pants and glanced over her shoulder at the three other members of their small band—all of whom had stopped their bickering and mourning in favor of sprawling out in the sand. "We should get a move on, then."

"Yeah." Zack was already striding purposely toward the remains of the airship and trying hard to ignore the aches and pains that plagued him with every step and how hard this was going to be.

* * *

A shadow crept quietly through the darkened forest toward the circle of unsuspecting travelers who slept around a dying fire. The shadow had been following them for two days and decided it was finally time to make a move. They were less wary now and the stupid SOLDIER had finally fallen asleep.

It was perfect.

With a smirk, the shadow inched closer to the SOLDIER and crouched down beside his sleeping roll. A few swift, practiced movements and the shadow was holding all of the SOLDIER's precious materia. The materia was pocketed hurriedly and the shadow moved on, darting around the circle and pilfering materia from each sleeping stranger.

At last, the only one left was the blond SOLDIER sleeping toward the edge of the camp—separated from the rest by a distance of several feet. He lay on top of his sleeping roll rather than under it and was so still the shadow had to look closely to catch the faint rise and fall of his chest.

With a single sneer of hate, the shadow hovered over the SOLDIER and briefly contemplated running a shuriken through his vulnerable chest but refused the urge. This mission was to steal, not to murder. Sucking in a steadying breath, the shadow reached for the pouch of materia attached to the SOLDIER's hip.

Fingers brushed the rim of the pouch and suddenly glowing blue eyes snapped open wide and fixed on the shadow, who fought back a scream. Wrenching away, the shadow leaped backward into a patch of moonlight.

The SOLDIER's eyes widened and the shadow realized her mask of darkness had been callously stripped away by the silver light. Knowing that the game was up, she pivoted and propelled herself forward into a run—clinging to the small hope that SOLDIER was too tired and disoriented to give chase. She was good—great, even—and the fastest in her village, but not nearly fast enough to outrun a SOLDIER.

Her hopes were dashed when she heard him behind her, moving as quietly as a wraith and closing the distance with every subdued step. Gritting her teeth, the girl pushed herself faster and leapt upward to a large overhanging branch. If the ground wouldn't work, maybe she could lose him in the maze of twisted tree branches.

She nearly yelled in frustration when his footfalls grew louder. Desperately, she twisted her body and darted in a new direction—deeper into the dark forest. The trees whipped past her on all sides and the cold wind stung her face and yanked on the black ties of her bandana, sending them flapping nosily in all directions. She ignored the chill and kept moving, faster and faster, until her eyes stung and her hair felt like it was going to be pulled from her scalp any second.

Still the footsteps trailed her, gaining, gaining, always gaining.

_Geez! What is up with this guy! _

All she had taken was a little materia. Something so insignificant should not result in a death chase through a creepy forest.

But she wasn't about to surrender. She was a ninja and she would see this through to the end. With a smile of determination tugging at her lips, she changed directions again, veering sharply to the left. Still, he hugged her trail.

Up, down, left, right—no matter what direction she tried he remained stubbornly behind her. Her frustration mounted with every passing second that brought him closer to capturing her.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid … _

Shaking away thoughts of how long it would take for her father to discover her body, the girl tried one last trick. Jumping from the safety of the branches, she tumbled into a freefall and tried not too focus on how fast the ground rushed up towards her. Seconds before she hit the unforgiving ground, she reached out and snagged a branch, jerking herself to a harsh stop.

Biting her lip against the bolts of pain shooting up her arms and shoulders, the girl listened intently for any sign of the SOLDIER. Hearing none, she dropped to the ground with a wide grin and punched a triumphant fist into the air.

"Yes! That'll teach you to mess with the Great Ninja Yuffie!"

Her triumph lasted all of three seconds as suddenly the SOLDIER materialized in front of her like an eerie phantom, forcing a startled scream from her lips as she barely managed to dodge his outstretched hand. Skipping toward the shadows again, she froze when he intercepted her, realizing with horror that he had her trapped.

_Stay calm, _she told herself as she fought the panic bubbling in her chest, _there's always a way out. _

"Who are you?" The SOLDIER's quiet voice surprised her. She had always assumed SOLDIERs had harsh, gruff voices—not the soft murmur she heard from the blond.

Remembering suddenly he'd asked her a question, Yuffie decided the truth couldn't do too much damage at this point. "I'm the Great Ninja Yuffie! And what is Shinra scum like you doing in Wutai?!"

His eyes narrowed marginally. "I'm not with Shinra."

Well _that _threw her for quite a loop. Blinking in silent shock, it took the ninja nearly half a minute to realize that he was more than likely lying to her in order to obtain her trust. Hah! She wasn't going to be so easily fooled.

"How stupid do you think I am?! You've got creepy glowy eyes and that means you're SOLDIER and _that _means you're Shinra!"

Now it was his turn to blink at her in bewilderment. At last he sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Just give back what you stole." He held out a demanding hand and she scowled in response.

"No way! I stole it fair and square so it's mine now."

She relished the look of frustration that briefly stole across his neutral face. "Please, it will be easier on both of us if you just give it back."

"What are you going to do, SOLDIER boy? Fight me?" Yuffie taunted, pulling her shuriken from its holster on her back. She spun it once, a mocking smile accenting the gesture of confidence. "It doesn't look like you have a weapon."

To her surprise, he slid his feet into a defensive pose—boots scraping through the mud left by yesterday's rain. "I don't need a weapon," he said evenly and in the darkness his eyes seemed to glow with more intensity than before. The ninja swore she saw a few flickers of green mixed in with the blue.

The voice in her head screamed at her to run because there was no way she would survive a fight with a SOLDIER—huge shuriken or not—but she stubbornly ignored it, as she often did. She would prove to this SOLDIER that she was no ordinary thief.

"Right, and let's see if you say that when I'm through kicking your butt!" She spun the shuriken once more and lunged.

He moved backward with speed and agility she didn't think was humanly possible, putting a few feet of distance between them. With a quiet snarl, the ninja skidded to a stop—her boots kicking up mud that splattered across her black pants. The SOLDIER blinked at her and shook his head. "I don't want to fight you. Just give back the stuff you stole."

Momentarily, she was reminded of another SOLDIER she had met seven years ago who had graced her with an easygoing smile and played along with her childish antics instead of killing her like he probably was supposed to. That one SOLDIER had casually overturned her prejudices and assumptions about SOLDIERs and now this stupid blond was doing it again.

_Get a grip. He's just doing this to get to you let your guard down. Shinra's evil and SOLDIERs are monsters. End of story. _

"You're trespassing in my home, Shinra scum! So that means whatever was yours is mine. Now, get out of the way."

He planted his feet and shook his head. "No."

"Geez, what you do want me to do? Say please?"

She thought she saw a faint smile on his face but it was gone as soon as she blinked. "I don't really think that would make a difference, right?"

With a snort, Yuffie raised her shuriken again. "Nope. None at all."

He moved first this time and was in front of her before she even had time to shift into an attack position. Pain shot up her arm like a fire when his fist slammed into the metal guard she wore. Startled, she sent a reflex kick into his stomach and disentangled herself with an upward leap into the safety of the trees. He followed half a second later and she barely had time to dodge the kick aimed at her head. Tumbling back to the forest floor, she glanced up at the blond perched in the tree, inwardly shivering at the glowing eyes that stared back without blinking.

_I'm going to lose if this keeps up. _

Retreat seemed like the best option and Yuffie gladly took it. Pulling a smoke bomb from the pouch at her hip, she hurled it to the ground and darted away from the clearing under the cover of the thick, green smoke, leaving the SOLDIER peering into an empty forest.

The Great Ninja Yuffie had another clean getaway under her belt.

* * *

Cloud coughed as smoke filled his mouth and nose, making it almost impossible to breathe. Without looking, he knew the strange girl was gone. His sensitive ears easily picked up her retreating footsteps and the groan of the branches as she landed on them. Sighing, he leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, deciding to sit still and wait until the smoke cleared. There was nothing he could do now. She was long gone and it was pointless to continue the battle. He didn't know what she stole, but it couldn't be important enough to chase her halfway across the island in hopes she would have a change of heart and willingly return it.

"Cloud!"

Cloud's eyes shot open and he blinked in surprise as Zack appeared out of the dissipating smoke, looking half-panicked.

"Up here," he called, waving idly.

Zack's shoulders sagged in visible relief. "Man, buddy, you scared us. We woke up and you were gone. Then I thought I heard a fight. Are you okay? What happened?"

Cloud glanced around the forest and, seeing no signs of the rest of the group, frowned. "Where's everyone else?"

Zack leapt into the tree with frightening ease and plunked down beside Cloud on the branch. "We split up to look for you."

Cloud sincerely hoped the branch was strong enough to hold their combined weight. "Oh."

"What happened?" Zack repeated, not at all concerned about falling.

Cloud rubbed a hand through his hair in a perfect imitation of Zack's habitual nervous gesture. "There was this girl in our camp. She stole something. I woke up and chased after her. We fought and she got away."

"Huh," Zack muttered. "Well, that solves the missing materia problem."

"So that's what she took." Cloud sighed. "Sorry I let her get away. She used a smoke bomb and I wasn't expecting it."

Zack gave him a strange look—the kind Cloud had learned meant he had said something unexpected—but as usual, didn't give an explanation. "Don't worry about it. Materia isn't nearly as important as food. If she had taken that we would have been screwed. It really doesn't matter."

A pregnant pause fell between them, hovering on the thin line between comfortable and uncomfortable. Then, Zack ventured another question. "What did she look like?"

Cloud shrugged. "She was young and she had short hair. She fought with a shuriken and called herself the 'Great Ninja Yuffie'."

Another strange look darkened Zack's face and again, he wiped it away before Cloud could question it. "Weird. Well, I'm sure we'll run into her again. We can ask about her when we get to the capitol."

"She really didn't like Shinra," Cloud murmured absently. "I wonder why."

This time, the pain was clear in Zack's eyes. "No one here likes Shinra and they have a good reason. There was a horrible war here over seven years ago. They lost thousands and now they live under Shinra's thumb. They are a proud people and service to their enemies is the worst possible existence."

"Were you in the war?" Cloud inquired, hoping for at least one straight answer instead of Zack's usual evasive riddles.

"Yes," Zack mumbled regretfully. "Near the end of it. I helped clean up any remaining pockets of resistance." Shadows of past horrors lurked in Zack's normally cheerful eyes, but before Cloud could study them closely, Cid and Red barreled into the clearing.

"Hey guys," Zack waved, quickly donning his masks again. "I found him." He pointed at Cloud and grinned brightly.

"Good," Red looked relieved, which surprised Cloud. "I am glad you are safe, Cloud."

"Uh … thanks." Cloud coughed, feeling incredibly awkward in the face of Red's concern.

"Ya sure caused an uproar, kid," Cid commented harshly, gnawing on the toothpick stuck between his teeth. "Lost a good night sleep cause of you."

"Sorry." The awkwardness level increased and Cloud wished nothing more than to crawl back into his sleeping roll and hide from the world. It was so much easier when no one noticed him. "I'll sit watch tomorrow night." He didn't need much sleep anyway and one night without it wouldn't cause too much damage.

Cid grunted in agreement. "Fine. I'm goin' back to bed." He stalked from the clearing and Red followed him after nodding goodnight to his two comrades.

Once they were gone, Zack stretched and yawned. "We should get back to bed, too. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Cloud nodded, though he didn't feel tired. "Yeah."

Zack wrapped an arm around Cloud's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, buddy."

"Thanks." Cloud felt awed by how many people were concerned for him. Was he really worth that much?

Zack released him and slid down from the tree. Once he rose from his crouch, he cracked his back loudly and smiled up at Cloud. "Well, now that this crisis is over, I say we get some shut eye. We should be able to make it to the capitol city by tomorrow afternoon."

Cloud joined Zack on the ground. "Okay."

When they returned to the camp, Cloud was hugged by not only Tifa, but an equally worried Aerith. He tried not to blush from all the attention and assured the girls that he was fine. While he appreciated their concern, he still felt smothered and struggled to refrain from reminding them that he _was_ capable of taking care of himself—mental problems or not.

Soon, the flurry of activity died down as exhaustion returned and everyone fell asleep quickly. Except for Cloud. The blond lay in his sleep roll listening to the quiet breathing and snores of the others while staring wide-eyed at the trees and playing the fight through his mind.

Something had felt different, though he couldn't pinpoint what. He had felt more confident and understood things he hadn't before meeting the ninja in that clearing. Though he couldn't remember ever seeing a shuriken or a smoke bomb, his mind supplied the terms quickly along with a knowledge of how to combat them that only came from years of experience.

_Who am I? _

It was a pressing question and one that Cloud suspected would come to mean everything.

* * *

_Yes! _

Zack fought the urge to whoop and do a victory dance when the great Da Chao statue appeared on the horizon. Ten more steps and he stood atop the crest of the hill. The capitol city stretched out beneath him in a mass of gleaming red roofs. The distinctive Wutai buildings looked beautiful in the light of the afternoon sun and Zack wanted to fall to his knees and weep with relief. At _last _they were within an arm's reach of safety.

It wouldn't be as easy he claimed, however. Zack knew the anti-Shinra sentiment that permeated Wutai would prevent them from easily gaining asylum. Especially with his and Cloud's SOLDIER-like appearances. It would take skillful negotiating and a lot of begging before the king even thought about letting them stay in the city.

But Zack had told his comrades none of this. It was better if they didn't know. That way, they wouldn't worry as much.

"It's so beautiful." Aerith appeared at his side, panting but smiling widely. "I can't believe we made it."

He nodded and glanced down at her. She took his breath away as much as the gleaming city, even though her bangs were plastered to her cheeks with sweat and her face was streaked with dirt. "It is," he agreed, meaning far more than just the city.

"Finally," Barrett muttered as he crested the hill. Wiping a hand across his brow, he surveyed the city with barely concealed wonder. "Can't believe this actually exists."

"Welcome to Wutai," Zack said with a sweep of his hand. "The great city of this island nation."

"It's so nice to see civilization again." Tifa adjusted her pack and smiled wearily.

They had passed a few villages on the way through the mountains, but Zack had forbidden them from entering any of them, wanting to avoid alerting the people of Wutai to their presence until they reached the capitol.

"Yes," Aerith agreed. "It feels like it's been years since we've seen an actual city."

Cid snorted. "Don't see what's so special about it."

Tifa smacked him on the arm. "Stop it. You're just moping because of your precious ship."

"Yeah, I would be safe in Rocket Town if it wasn't for you crazy people."

"If I recall, you were the one who jumped on the plane. We did not force you," Red remarked dryly.

Cid snorted again, but had no comeback for the observant accusation.

"So what now?" Cloud asked, successfully steering the group back to more practical matters.

"We go request an audience with the king," Zack said, fully knowing they would be arrested as soon as they set foot within the city perimeter. The Wutai did not like strangers.

_But they don't have to know that._

"Seems simple enough," Tifa muttered.

Aerith studied Zack's face and for once he refused to meet her eyes. She would see the truth in them. "We should still be careful," she said softly and Zack wondered for the millionth time if she had looked straight through him to what he was hiding.

"Yeah," he agreed, briefly touching the hilt of the Buster Sword. "But whatever they do, don't fight back."

And before anyone could question his ominous warning, the ex-SOLDIER set off down the mountain at a swift pace, forcing them to scramble madly to keep up.

At the base of the hill, the city gates yawned before them—huge and intimidating. Zack took a deep breath, aware of the guard's hidden gazes, and stepped across the threshold into the city. Three steps later, shouts filled the sky and guards poured from several of the buildings close to the gate, quickly surrounding the startled AVALANCHE members. Guns clicked and katanas sung as they were pulled from their sheaths.

"What's going on?" Tifa yelled, raising her fists.

"Don't!" Zack cried, clamping onto Barret's metal hand before it could shift into a gun.

"_Shinra_, why you here?" The guard spat out heavily-accented Gaian.

Zack raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy. We mean no harm. Please, we want to speak with your king."

"SOLDIER not welcome here!" The guard yelled, raising his weapon.

"Please." Zack tried to keep his voice level. "We're part of the rebel group AVALANCHE. We need to talk to your leader. It's urgent. _Please." _He came dangerously close to begging at the end, and it was difficult to ignore the stunned looks his comrades were sending him. He knew he would find betrayal alongside surprise in their eyes if he glanced at them.

_I'm sorry. _

"Your eyes say SOLDIER." The guard refused to budge.

"Then take me," Zack pleaded. "Leave the others. They're not with Shinra."

"Don't trust you." The guard pointed his katana at Zack's chest. Zack gulped, watching the situation tailspin before his eyes. Any second and they would start shooting.

"Oh c'mon guys. Let 'em see my father. How bad can they be?" A new voice called.

Startled, Zack jerked his head around to the source—a girl standing proudly on the roof of a nearby building. Her dark eyes danced brightly with life from beneath her black bandana and bangs. Zack leaned forward, trying to get a better look through the sun rays that were blinding him.

She seemed so familiar.

The guard said something in Wutainese and bowed hurriedly. Zack recognized one word amidst the jumble: princess.

_Princess?!_

The girl flipped gracefully off the roof and landed directly in front of the speechless rebels. Free of the glaring sunlight, Zack got a good look at her face and nearly fainted from shock. It was the girl who had declared herself a great ninja and pretended to beat him up during the war. The one sign of hope in the middle of so much destruction. He never forgot her—his reminder that humanity was still worth protecting. From the look on the girl's face, she remembered him too.

Simultaneously the two raised their hands and pointed, equal amounts of incredulity present in their expressions. "You!"

Tifa looked back and forth between them with a puzzled frown. "What in Gaia's name is going on here?"

* * *

**Okay, a few things I've changed about Wutai. I don't know how much of this is actually canon or not because I've never played the Wutai part of the game and research only supplies so much information, so I thought I'd mention everything, just in case. **

** Wutai is much more traditional and rigid than presented in the game. The king has absolute authority. The people have their own language. Also, Shinra has forgotten about them until very recently, so they have the power to question Shinra personnel that enter the city. If it was a Turk or a group of SOLDIERs, they would obey, but since there is only two SOLDIERs in AVALANCHE and the rest of the group looks like nothing more a ragtag band of travelers, they felt safe arresting them. **

**Hopefully, this clears up any questions you might have. If there is something I haven't answered, feel free to let me know via review or private message. :D **

**Coming up next--**an audience with a king.


	27. XXV: Seeking Asylum

**Merry Christmas everyone!**

**I originally wanted to do some kind of Christmas one-shot to celebrate the holidays, but eventually decided that a new chapter would have to suffice. Things have been too busy to come up with a separate one-shot. Maybe next year. **

**So, anyway, this is my Christmas gift to all my dear readers! :) I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Even though it's mostly dialogue, I put a lot of work into. This is the most researched chapter so far. I spent a lot of time looking up pagodas and Asian palaces, etc. Hopefully everything seems practical and realistic. Again, I never played the Wutai segment of the game so everything here is just my own imagination. Creative license. So please don't point out things that are wrong and such. Just go with it. ^_^**

**Enjoy! And review! **

* * *

_What in Gaia's name is going on here?" _

Both Zack and Yuffie were too caught up in their surprise to acknowledge Tifa and everyone else was just as confused, trying to figure out how a Wutaian girl and Zack could possibly know each other.

"Why are you back?" Yuffie cried.

"Why did you steal from us?" Zack shot back, dropping his hand and clenching it into a tight fist. "We needed that materia!"

"Humph," Yuffie crossed her arms and snorted indignantly. "You're Shinra. You deserve it!"

"I saved your life, you know," Zack pointed out.

Yuffie scowled. "I could've beaten you!"

Zack arched an eyebrow and scoffed. "You? Please."

Yuffie swiftly uncrossed her arms and reached for the shuriken strapped to her back—her brown eyes blazing with determination. "Oh yeah?! Alright, SOLDIER-boy, let's see how good you are. Right now!"

Zack would've offered a rather scathing retort if an alarmed and shocked captain hadn't leapt forward and grabbed the girl's arm, talking to her in a stream of Wutaian. Zack tried, but couldn't understand anything the man was saying. He hadn't been to Wutai in almost eight years and his time on the island had been too short to pick up more than a few words of the native language.

Yuffie clearly didn't like whatever the guard was saying because her scowl only deepened and her eyes flashed in frustration. At last she sighed and nodded. The apparently appeased captain released her and returned to his position beside his flabbergasted men. Yuffie turned to Zack and slowly dropped her arm to her side. "Looks like we'll have to fight later since you've got business with my old man and all and he'd be mad if I killed you before he could talk to you."

Zack's eye twitched in subtle annoyance but he managed a casual shrug. "Too bad. I guess it'll just have to wait."

"Yeah," Yuffie said with honest disappointment and leapt up onto one of the roofs with nimble grace.

"But I want our materia back!" Zack called after her.

Yuffie laughed and winked at him over her shoulder. Her voice was carried back to him on the wind as she took off over the rooftops. "Not a chance, SOLDIER-boy!"

Zack growled and looked ready to chase her, but the captain stepped forward and poked him with the blunt end of his weapon. "Let's go."

Zack sighed and let his anger drain away with the exhalation. Giving the guard a strained smile, he nodded and allowed himself to be prodded forward. The rest of AVALANCHE grudgingly followed suit—still very confused and little miffed about the abrupt turn in events.

"What was that all about?" Tifa asked him as they began their trek through the city.

Zack shrugged again and glanced back at the now-empty rooftops. "Just another ghost from my past."

* * *

Zack tried his best to ignore the numerous gazes that bore into him from all sides as adults and children stopped their daily activities to stare with surprise at the foreigners being led through the city by a platoon of the king's guards. A few adults grabbed their children and held them close, preventing them from running out into the traveler's path. Their eyes held mistrust and fear—especially when they noticed Zack's glowing eyes. In one or two faces the suspicion morphed rapidly into hate.

Zack kept his head bent and his traitorous eyes fixed firmly on his boots, allowing his bangs to conceal some of the glow. It was hard to believe that once, not so long ago, he'd been proud of his eyes—even boasted to Aerith how cool they were. Now they were a mark of shame as plain as a brand on his skin and he hated them with almost as much passion as the Wuntaian people watching him.

Cloud, too, kept his eyes hidden as best as he could. The glow in his eyes was almost brighter than Zack's these days, and though he didn't know all that they stood for he easily realized how much people disliked them. Here, though, they seemed to provoke a deeper sense of hatred than most places. The people apparently hadn't forgotten the war and all the wrongs Shinra had committed, nor was it likely that they ever would.

Aerith shifted closer to Zack and he could feel her breath on his ear as she leaned in to speak with him. "Do you see?"

At first he was puzzled by her question, but cautiously raised his head and glanced around, refusing to let his gaze rest too long on any pair of accusing eyes. It didn't take him long to realize what Aerith had been talking about. A women in front of a small flower shop was gripping her son tightly and as she wrapped her arms around the child, the boy's sleeves rolled up, revealing black splotches on his skinny arms—a sharp contrast to his pale skin.

Zack felt a pang of sadness run through him at the sight.

"Yes," he whispered back to Aerith as he returned his gaze to the road—unable to look at the dying boy's huge eyes and stained arms.

"No talking!" The guard barked, overhearing their muffled conversation.

"Sorry," Zack mumbled sheepishly, hoping to be as unassuming as possible. The last thing they needed was the people of Wutai throwing them out. This was their only chance and he couldn't blow it.

The guard huffed and turned his attention forward. When Zack followed his gaze he realized they were approaching a huge pagoda sitting in the center of a large, walled courtyard. It was ornately decorated and surrounded by statues that glinted in the waning light of the evening sun. The rest of the capitol city seemed to spread outward from the pagoda and revolve around it. The structure was the heart of the city and watched over it like a protective father, reaching further into the sky than any of the other buildings. The gates leading into the courtyard were made of strong wood painted with what Zack assumed was the symbol of the royal family and two guards stood in front of them dressed in more elaborate uniforms than the soldiers who had discovered AVALANCHE.

_Palace guards. _

So this was the house of the king.

The palace guards didn't seem surprised to see the approaching party, though it was hard to know for sure because of the helmets that obscured most of their features. They swiftly opened the gate, allowing the group to pass with apparent calm, but Zack didn't miss the way their fingers curled a little tighter around their weapons and their gazes burned from beneath the protective shield of their helmets.

There was so much bitterness in this place, Zack felt like he was choking on it.

The path to the pagoda was lined with beautiful trees and flower bushes—accented by a few fountains and one large pond. Other buildings stood amidst the greenery—all as ornate as the pagoda. Zack guessed that those were where the king actually resided and that the pagoda was used for official purposes. The grounds were extensive, carrying on as far as Zack could see, and guards littered the garden, dispelling the image of tranquility with their shining armor and weapons.

AVALANCHE's shoes crunched against the fine gravel of the path for what felt like hours until the pagoda loomed before them. Zack craned up his head back and squinted against the dying sun in an attempt to see where the pagoda ended and the sky began, but the distinction was fuzzy and hard to determine. The pagoda shone in the evening light, making it difficult to stare directly at it for lengthy periods of time.

Zack counted at least six or seven tiers before giving up and climbing the stairs after the impatient captain—who seemed a little pleased at the rebel group's obvious awe at the sight of his king's residence.

"It's so … beautiful," Aerith murmured, used to the monotone steel of Midgar.

"Yeah," Tifa echoed. "It's amazing."

Cid snorted. "Don't see what's so amazing about it. It doesn't fly or anythin'. Just stands there."

"Come." The captain waved at them impatiently.

"See, ya made 'im mad," Barrett muttered to Cid, who shot him an impressive glare.

"Not my fault," the pilot huffed defensively.

"Quiet," the guard behind them barked, raising his weapon.

The entrance to the pagoda was as ornate as the rest of the impressive structure. Two thick pillars of red wood flanked the entry, supporting an intricate gold-coated roof, and two large dragon statues sat proudly on either side of the wide door that was crafted of the same red wood as the pillars and painted with the symbol of the royal family—matching the one on the courtyard gates. Two guards jerked to attention as the captain approached them and the three began conversing in their native tongue.

Aerith glanced at the dragon statues with a mixture of fear and awe while the sentry guards nodded their assent to the captain's request and pulled open the massive doors, beckoning the rebel group inside.

The room was cool and lit with many glowing lamps, giving it a warm but someone imposing aura as the light from the decorated lamps created strange shadows on the walls. The walls were made of a dark wood and one or two boasted colorful tapestries depicting scenes from Wutai's history. Another door stood opposite of the first—most likely the entrance to the king's throne room—and the captain stopped in front of it.

"Only one can see king," he declared firmly.

A ripple of surprise ran through the group.

"What?!" Tifa cried.

"Ya promised us an audience," Barrett growled.

The guard shook his head. "One. That is rule."

Frustrated, the rebels turned to face each other, forming a small huddle in the middle of the room.

"What do we do?" Aerith asked.

"What he says," Tifa replied grimly.

"It would seem we have no choice," Red agreed. "Zack should go."

"What?!" Zack hissed in alarm. "Why? I'm not exactly a diplomat."

Red glanced up at him with a determined look in his eye. "That does not matter. You are our leader and know Wutai best. It is only logical that you be the one to go."

"He's right," Barrett nodded. "You'll be fine, kid."

"Yeah, Zack, you're the best choice." Cloud patted him on the shoulder and shot him a small smile which Zack half-heartedly returned.

He wanted to protest, in spite of the trust in their eyes—visible even through the lingering anger at his failure to tell them the whole truth about their welcome into the foreign city. Yes, somewhere along the way he'd become the leader of their ragtag band, but it should be someone like Aerith—who presented a less-threatening picture and lacked glowing eyes and a SOLDIER's sword—to talk to the king. If he went in he would only been seen as Shinra.

But before he could voice any of these concerns, AVALANCHE pushed him toward the door, wishing him good luck.

"Knock 'em dead, kid," Barrett said cheerfully, ignoring the way the guards in the room tensed.

"Not literally," Tifa told them hurriedly. "It's just an expression."

They dropped their attack stances but remained alert and suspicious. Tifa glared at Barrett, who laughed nervously. "Eh, oops."

"We'll wait for you here." Cloud and Aerith stood side by side in front of Zack—identical expressions of hope and worry on their faces.

"Be careful," Aerith ordered, failing to hide the nervousness in her voice.

"I'll be fine," Zack assured.

She shook her head, but smiled. "Just make sure you don't say anything stupid."

Zack frowned, but the captain tapped him on the shoulder before he could voice a retort. "Come. And leave sword."

"Right." Zack handed his sword to Cloud and followed the guard with one last smile and a jaunty wave to his companions.

Then the red doors closed and he was alone with the captain and the king.

* * *

The throne room was awe-inspiring, to say the least—lit with numerous glowing and hanging lamps. Red pillars lined the path to the throne, which was crafted of gold and seated on an elevated dais. Stairs covered with a rich red carpet led up to the seat. Along the walls, more tapestries hung and even the wood paneling along the upper walls was decorated with images of dragons and ancient kings. The dark wood of the ceiling was dotted with red and gold patterns. Two more dragon statues sat on either side of the dais—threatening stone sentries—and Zack forced himself not to cringe at their imposing stares. The floor beneath his feet was made of black tile polished so thoroughly he could see his reflection on the smooth but worn surface.

The captain left him standing dazed in the middle of the large room and hurried up to the throne, bowing low to the seated figure and speaking rapidly—occasionally gesturing to Zack, who didn't dare move from his spot a few feet away and kept his glowing eyes on his reflection in the polished floor.

At last, the guard motioned for him to come forward and retreated to the double doors, leaving Zack alone with the king of Wutai.

Following his instincts, the ex-SOLDIER bowed and was surprised to hear a deep chuckle from the man

Glancing up, he watched as Godo descended the steps from the dais, his purple robe flowing around his feet. The king had stern, regal features—highlighted by his dark eyes that glinted sharply, reminding Zack of a hawk. Black hair streaked with gray around his temples flowed down to his shoulders and was slicked back in the front, adding to his austere appearance. A pointed beard and mustache completed the image, but Zack's gaze was drawn to the circles under the man's eyes and how pale his skin seemed; the slight stoop of his shoulders and his shuffling steps that made him seem much older than he probably was. The flowing white sleeves of his robe hid his arms, but Zack was almost certain they were littered with black stains.

The king was sick, just like his people.

"That is probably the first time I have ever had a SOLDIER bow to me," Godo commented as he stopped in front of Zack.

Godo stood about a head shorter than the SOLDIER, but his bulky frame gave him an imposing look, compensating for his lack of height. His voice was deep and possessed a slight accent, but was raspy in a way that Zack guessed wasn't normal.

"I'm not SOLDIER," Zack snapped, dragging his thoughts away from the king's health to the situation at hand.

"Your eyes say differently," Godo remarked dryly.

"I hate these eyes! I'd rip them out if I could!" Zack cried vehemently and a stunned silence settled in the wake of his harsh words.

Godo seemed taken aback by the conviction in his words and Zack realized with shock that they were true, all of them. He'd gladly tear out his eyes so that he wouldn't be reminded of Shinra and all his failures every time he looked at his reflection.

"Such hatred," Godo folded his arms and regarded the other man with scrutiny. "What has Shinra done to you to make you hate it so?"

Zack's shoulders tensed and he looked away, staring at a large tapestry hanging on the left wall as he struggled to calm the raging storm in his soul.

"And I want the truth," Godo continued calmly. "I will know if you're lying, boy."

Zack sighed, resigning himself to dragging up the painful past. Godo would believe nothing less and it was essential that he win the king's trust. Just this once, he could bear to tell the story.

"You remember Sephiroth?"

"How can I forget him?" Anger tinged Godo's voice and when Zack glanced back at the king, he saw narrowed eyes above a deep scowl. "That man nearly destroyed my entire army. Hundreds of causalities, and that isn't counting the civilians that died in the villages he and his men burned. He wasn't human, I was convinced of that."

"You're right," Zack muttered darkly. "He was a monster."

Again, Godo seemed surprised. "You agree with me? You are an odd person, SOLDIER."

Zack ignored the observation. "Do you know … how he died?"

Godo shrugged. "Something about dying a hero protecting a place called Nibelheim. It was quite some ago and we heard only rumors. So he is dead, then?"

"Yes. And he never died a hero. He went crazy and burned the town. Slaughtered almost everyone. An infantryman and I managed to stop him and kill him."

"Fascinating," Godo said—eyes wide with amazement.

Zack turned and paced slowly, finding that he couldn't stand still when so much nervous energy pulsed in his veins, demanding release. This was the first time he had spoken a word about Nibelheim to anyone and it was terrifying.

"We were seriously wounded in the fight, though. Shinra decided we would … make excellent lab rats and … we spent nearly four years … as test subjects and one year … on the run. They … nearly killed us." Zack's eyes darkened as he remembered a rainy, blood-soaked cliff and Cloud's scintillating mako eyes set in his sheet-white face.

Silence descended as Zack finished and Godo stared at the ceiling in contemplation. "I see," he said at last—voice carefully neutral. A grim chuckle slipped past his lips. "I suppose that _is _a good reason to hate Shinra."

Folding his arms, the king turned back to the ex-SOLDIER standing a few feet away. "So, if you are not Shinra, who are you and why are you here?"

Relieved that the king had believed his story, Zack straightened and smiled bleakly. "Zack Fair from the rebel group AVALANCHE."

Godo seemed to reign in his surprise. "The ones who have been blowing up the reactors in Midgar?"

"You've heard of us?" Zack asked disbelievingly.

Godo chuckled again, shaking his head. "Who hasn't heard of you? You are the most wanted people on the planet." He paused and a solemn look stole across his features. "Which is why you cannot stay here."

Zack's head shot up and for a moment, he couldn't make his mouth form any words. Thoughts ran circles through his panicked brain as the king's expression remained the same. Never had he considered the fact that Godo might turn them away. The man hated Shinra and Zack had been certain that he would welcome AVALANCHE because of how they had opposed Shinra.

"Why?" he managed at last.

Godo sighed. "Zack Fair, my people have had enough of Shinra. We don't need any more problems from them. Surely you have seen the sickness in the streets. My people are _dying _and the last thing they need is Shinra cracking down again because they have discovered wanted criminals hiding among us. You must leave immediately."

Zack bit his lip, fighting his rising panic and anger. "Please, there's no place else for us to go! We came all this way. At least give us a few days to rest and re-supply. We'll be gone before Shinra catches up to us!"

Godo frowned and took a step closer. "Boy, Shinra is _already_ here."

Zack froze, feeling numb as the blood cooled in his veins, his heart started hammering, and the color drained from his face. Horror and alarm overcame every thought and emotion so all he was capable of was gaping. Within him every carefully built wall of strength collapsed under the flood of terror that washed over him and he desperately fought the urge to fall to the floor and scream until he was hoarse.

Had they really traveled for weeks and dragged themselves through some of the most dangerous territory on the planet only to discover their enemies had been ahead of them every step of the way?

The safe place they had sought was compromised before they ever set foot on the shore.

He'd failed. Again.

"W-what?" Zack stammered, clenching his hand into a fist to keep it from trembling.

Godo hurried to reassure the horrified rebel, realizing that his words had been grievously

misinterpreted. "They are not here looking for you. They were here long before you blew up any reactors. Almost eight months now. They are out in the mountains." Godo swept his arm in the direction of the mountains beyond the city. "Digging, always digging."

Feeling the storm of emotions quiet, Zack took a deep breath and steadied himself. "O-oh. Digging for what?"

An apprehensive, vulnerable look flashed across Godo's face briefly before his features schooled into a neutral expression. "We don't know. There are legends of something buried up there since ancient times, but they are only stories. Shinra's workers are good two days journey from here and hardly ever venture into the city. And none of my people are foolish enough to try to sneak into their camp. We avoid them and in turn they only bother us for supplies every month or so.

"However," Godo continued before Zack could comment. "Their presence still causes unease amongst my people and it would be a disaster if they were to come on one of their supply runs and find you here. You need to leave."

"Wait!" Zack pleaded. "At least give us three days. Three days to rest and come up with a new strategy. _Please, _Your Majesty."

The king stroked his beard thoughtfully as he considered Zack's request. The ex-SOLDIER waited anxiously, forcing himself to remain still and calm. Finally, Godo glanced at him and nodded wearily.

"Very well. Three days is all I will give you. We can't give you supplies for free, but if you have enough money to buy them we will provide as much as we can. You may stay in one of the guest rooms here in the palace. It is the least likely place Shinra will look for you."

"One of our members is a healer. Perhaps, she can do something in return for supplies," Zack offered cautiously—not wanting to upset the king.

Godo frowned darkly. "You know as well as I do that the disease has no cure."

"She can at least ease the pain."

Godo's eyes softened and Zack wondered if he was thinking about the boy on the streets with the marks on his arms and the shadows of death in his eyes. "Alright," he said. "I suppose that will be enough."

Zack bowed gratefully. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The king nodded. "Three days. No more." He gestured at the doors. "You may go."

With one last bow, Zack left the room, catching a glimpse of Godo's troubled and sad expression right before the doors closed and blocked his view.

* * *

"How did it go?"

"What did he say?"

"Is everything all right?"

"You were sure in there a long time."

"What took so long , kid?"

"Zack, are you okay?"

Zack waved his hands to ward off the insistent questions that spilled from his companions' lips the minute he stepped out of the throne room.

"Whoa, take it easy!" It took a lot of work to plaster a smile on his face. "Everything's fine." He glanced past the rest of AVALANCHE to the guards who lingered, waiting to escort them to their designated sleeping area. "I'll tell you everything later," he murmured so the guards wouldn't hear and received nods in return.

The doors of the throne room groaned as the captain stepped through. "Ready?" the man asked, having received instructions on where to house the rebels.

Zack nodded and the guards silently led them out of the pagoda and through the grounds to the one of the buildings Zack had seen earlier. Climbing the steps the guard pulled open the door to reveal a plain room with one large table low to the floor. Two painted screen doors let to separate rooms and one back door opened to a kitchen. It was simple, but the best quarters AVALANCHE had had in a very long time.

"Thank you," Zack said to the guard.

The man nodded and left silently, allowing the rebel group peace at last.

The others turned to Zack immediately, wanting a full explanations of the events that had occurred in the throne room.

Zack sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes wearily. "We can only stay three days," he began without preamble.

"What?!" Tifa cried in surprise.

"Only three days?!" Barrett fairly roared. "After we came all this way!"

"Why?" Red asked, voicing the same question Zack had, though with far more calm.

Zack sighed, wishing desperately he could just lie down and sleep for a year. So many emotions were tumbling through him it made him dizzy. Fear, frustration, relief, worry—they all flashed by in a second, leaving him reeling in the aftermath of their departure." He doesn't want problems with Shinra. His people are dying and their safety comes first. Besides …" he paused and took a calming breath, bracing himself. "Shinra's already here."

"_What?!" _Barrett yelled.

"How?" Aerith gasped, fear in her eyes.

"That is impossible. How did they know we were coming here?"

"Musta followed us from Rocket Town when you people stole my ship."

"Will you stop going on about that?"

"Why haven't they arrested us yet?"

"Where are they?"

"We can take 'em!"

"Don't be an idiot!"

"Maybe there's still time to run."

"Are you kiddin'? You people are crazy!"

"You're the one who jumped on a plane after it had taken off!"

"It took me three years to build that ship! What'd you expect me to do?"

"How close is Shinra?"

"How are we going to get off the island?"

"Everybody _stop!_" Zack yelled loud enough to rival Barrett, clutching his hair in frustration.

Five pairs of eyes slowly turned to focus on him, blinking in surprise. He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time and let his hands fall to his sides. "Just … stop. First of all, Shinra isn't here for us. They're looking for something in the mountains. They were here long before us."

"What are they looking for?" Red asked curiously.

Zack shrugged. "I don't know. And before anyone gets any ideas, we are _not _going out there to look." He shot a pointed glare in Barrett's direction and the other man frowned angrily.

"What if it's somethin' important?" Barrett argued.

"Then we'll know about it soon enough," Zack countered firmly. "We don't have the time or the supplies to hike all the way up there, and we can't run the risk of getting caught."

"He's right," Tifa interjected, slapping a steaming Barrett on the shoulder.

"We should gather supplies and discuss a new strategy," Red suggested.

Cid crossed his arms stubbornly. "Not until I get some sleep. We got three days."

"Aerith," Zack turned to the flower girl with a tired smile, "the king was wondering if you might be able to help some of the sick."

Aerith nodded. "Of course, I'll see what I can do."

"I agree with Cid," Cloud suddenly spoke. "We should all get some sleep."

There were murmurs of agreement and the members divided up and trudged to their separate rooms—Aerith and Tifa to one, Cid, Barrett and Red to the other. Zack remained in the center of the room and when Aerith asked him if he was going to bed he forced another smile and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm going to some fresh air. I'll go to sleep in a little while, don't worry."

Aerith's look said that she was worried in spite of his reassurances but she nodded and retreated into her room, sliding the screen shut behind her. Zack sighed softly and slipped out the front door. He wandered down the steps and paused a little ways from the house, soaking in the silver light of an almost full moon.

_The last time I was here it was a full moon, too. _

Such different circumstances, though. Such different people.

"Zack?"

Zack turned in surprise to find a worried Cloud standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Cloud? I thought you'd gone to bed."

Cloud shook his head and took a few hesitant steps forward, pausing only two or three paces from Zack. "Zack, I've never seen you this tired … I …"

"You shouldn't worry about me," Zack said sharply and looked away.

Behind him, Cloud made a soft sound of disagreement. "You worry about me all the time. That earns me the right to worry about you."

"Cloud…" Zack started to protest, but Cloud's hand landed on his shoulder, making the words die on his lips.

"What's wrong, Zack?" the blond asked quietly. "You shouldn't carry everything alone."

Zack swallowed thickly. "It's just … we came all this way and I was so sure that we would be welcomed. That everything would be over. We'd be _safe._" He let loose a bitter laugh. "Even after all this time I'm still naïve."

Cloud squeezed his shoulder. "You hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

Zack finally turned to face his friend, frowning at the sadness and concern burning brightly in Cloud's glowing eyes. "I'm a failure," he said flatly. "Nothing more."

Cloud's eyes hardened rapidly. "You're not a failure!" He cried passionately. "Don't ever think that. I don't know what happened in the past, but I know you saved us from something horrible. That's not failing."

Zack pulled away in frustration. "You don't understand! I got us into that whole mess in the first place. It was my fault to begin with! And even if I saved you, you don't remember anything and there are still things wrong. Then, I brought us all this way for nothing. In fact, I probably led us straight back into captivity! If all that isn't failing then what is?" He turned his back to Cloud, angrily glaring at the tranquil trees swaying in the faint breeze.

"You didn't leave me."

Zack froze at the gentle reminder—surprise keeping him rooted to the ground unable to even move a finger.

"You could have, right? But you didn't. Not once. And you came back to Aerith, just like you said you would. Do you think she sees you as a failure?"

Zack flinched. "She would if she knew," he whispered too quietly for Cloud to hear.

Cloud pressed on. "Well, she doesn't. None of us do. You snuck us onto the Vice President's ship. You got us over mountains, across an ocean, and through miles of dangerous territory. You kept us all safe. And so what if it isn't over? We'll figure something out. But if you give up, none of us will ever be able to go on without you."

Zack laughed quietly at the irony of their suddenly reversed roles. It shouldn't be Cloud's job to cheer him up. "You … don't understand. You don't know … how many people I've let die. How many people have died … because I wasn't strong enough to save them." He could see them all so vividly—frozen like crystal pictures in his mind. Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis, Wedge, Biggs, Jessie, Cloud—the names hammered out a drumbeat of sorrow in his heart, haunting him constantly.

"We're friends … right?"

The words came like a punch in the gut, hurling him into the past—to a bumpy-dirt road and a truck bed where he smiled even though he felt like dying inside and promised the friend who probably couldn't hear him that he would never abandon him.

To hear Cloud repeat those words … he didn't know what to feel.

Whirling, he faced his friend and tried to keep the sudden tears at bay. How … how could Cloud possibly know? "How…?" He choked out and had to stop to compose himself. "How did you …? Do you remember?"

Cloud seemed startled by his violent reaction to what should have been a simple question. "N-no, not really. Just that … you said that to me … once." He paused, confusion darkening his features. "I-I think."

Zack sucked in a shaky breath, feeling small tremors racking his body as the emotions battered him. He wanted to either scream, hit something, break down in tears, or laugh hysterically and he couldn't decide which.

In the end, he chose the next best option: running. "I … need some time alone."

Cloud's hand closed around his arm before he could execute his escape. "No! Don't run away again." Cloud looked about ready to do any one of the things Zack had been contemplating only seconds earlier. "I'm not asking for the truth, Zack. I'm not even asking for my past. Just that …" He lowered his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Just that you stop trying to handle everything on your own."

Zack flinched slightly at the sadness and frustration in Cloud's voice, but he couldn't deal with this. He just couldn't. Those words from the past had unlocked the doors to all the emotions he'd kept so carefully hidden away and if he didn't do _something _he would drown in the rising flood.

With a quiet growl, he wrenched his arm free of Cloud's grip and continued forward, leaving his friend standing alone in front of the house with only a clipped "I'm sorry. I just can't." for an explanation.

* * *

Cloud let his arm fall to his side and stared in stunned disbelief at his friend's retreating back until Zack vanished from sight. He felt … betrayed. And hurt. And angry. And sad.

_How many emotions is one person capable of feeling at once? _

Apparently dozens.

With a cry of frustration and pain, Cloud slumped into a sitting position on the steps, resting his forehead against his knees. He remained there for a long time, not even moving when Aerith slipped out of the house and sat down beside him.

Silently, the flower girl wrapped an arm around his shoulder and leaned her head against his in quiet understanding.

And together they sat, waiting for one of the most important people in their lives to realize that maybe, just maybe, he needed them as much as they needed him.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a duel, a new arrival, and a healer's heart.


	28. XXVI: When in Wutai

**See, see, I am capable of updating! 8D It just takes awhile. **

**Anyway, thank you to everyone for sticking with me through these long dry periods where school mercilessly consumes my life. Your reviews make me smile and look at the world a little brighter. I hope this chapter is worth the wait.**

**Enjoy! And please help feed my review addiction.**

**P.S. I posted a trailer for the Road to Sunrise on YouTube. The link can be found in my profile. 8D **

* * *

Zack walked.

It was a soothing action—the sound of his boots beating against the dirt in a ceaseless rhythm helped calm the storm cycling through his mind. With each step another of the chaotic thoughts settled and granted him more clarity, more focus. But the emotions that had been tearing away at each other slowly gathered together, clinging tighter and tighter to his heart. They burned and burned, brighter and brighter, until they were a seething mass more vicious than the sun.

_Anger. _

It closed its unforgiving fist around his soul and squeezed until he couldn't breathe or think beyond the rage coursing through his veins. The apologies became accusations. The hurt became hate. The guilt turned sour and bitter. And the world descended beneath a haze of bright blood red.

Zack paused along a crumbling stone wall once meant to keep outsiders from infiltrating the city. It was decrepit now, sinking low to the ground like a bent old man as moss and vines grew across its timeworn face. The ex-SOLDIER saw none of its tragic beauty, barely even noticed it all. His thought were consumed with a yesterday long dead and immortal faces that haunted every hour of today and tomorrow.

He was angry with Shinra for destroying so many lives.

Angry at Angeal for choosing the coward's way out.

Angry at Genesis for not fighting hard enough, long enough.

Angry at Sephiroth for not being as strong as everyone thought he was.

Angry at Hojo for every cut and tear on his body, mind, and soul.

Angry at Cloud for letting himself break.

Angry at Aerith for seeing everything he tried so hard to hide.

Angry at himself for failing them all.

With a cry, Zack slammed his fist into the wall with every ounce of strength in his mako-enhanced body. Fueled by rage, the punch slammed through several layers of ancient stone, creating a small crater on the already battered surface. Zack wrenched his hand free and glared at the damage with smoldering, tear-soaked eyes. It wasn't enough. He needed more release, more fragile things to shatter until his soul stitched itself back together and his mind forgot.

He needed to hurt until the hurt went away.

"You know, my old man really wouldn't appreciate you breaking stuff."

He started at the voice and blinked at Yuffie in surprise, confused that he hadn't heard her approach.

She smiled at him—the moonlight creating silver pools of light in her dark hair and eyes—and he stared blankly back, wanting her gone. He didn't need her teasing words or barbs and he was afraid of what he might do if pushed too far.

"What do you want?" The words emerged in a croak instead of the angry growl he'd been seeking.

The smile didn't waver even a centimeter. "Just wondering why you're out here punching walls, SOLDIER-boy."

Zack turned his face away to hide the weak tears still glimmering in his eyes. "Go away." It was harsh and snarling, but the ninja didn't flinch.

"No. This is my home. I can be here if I want."

Zack's hand clenched into a tight fist at his side and in his head he repeated the same mantra over and over—_Don't hit her, don't hit her, don't hit her—_in hopes of holding onto what felt like the last remaining shreds of his sanity.

He had met her only once, years ago. How was it that she knew how to push his buttons so easily? "I don't care. Leave," he bit out—teeth clicking roughly against each other.

He kept his eyes trained on the wall, hoping to hear the sound of her retreating footsteps. Instead, she drew closer, stepping into the corner of his vision with her hands on her hips and a dark frown aging her face.

"No." She matched his tone. "I want to know what you're doing here. You don't belong here, SOLDIER-boy."

"Your father said I could stay." It was a struggle to keep his voice calm and neutral when every nerve in his body begged him to scream.

"Why is Shinra here again? Haven't you scumbags done enough?"

"I'm not Shinra. Not anymore."

Yuffie scoffed and Zack could only think that the sound was too old for her. "Right. So, you up and quit?"

With a deep exhalation, Zack let his fist relax slowly. "Something like that."

Her head canted to the side and eyes sharper than they first appeared roamed over him, searching for the truth lurking in the echo of his words. "So, if you aren't Shinra anymore what exactly do you do?"

Still angry, drained, and frustrated, Zack willed himself to speak instead of vaulting the wall and running until he left himself behind. "Blow up reactors."

"Really?" Her voice changed, shed its years, and suddenly he was speaking to an excited teenager instead of a hardened warrior. "You're AVALANCHE?!"

His lips twitched involuntarily. "Something like that."

"Awesome! You're forgiven." Her smile cut across her face and struck a match in her eyes, making them sparkle.

His anger was shrinking back in the face of her youthful enthusiasm. "Does this mean I get my materia back?"

Her smile rearranged itself into a smirk as her feet slid easily into a defensive stance. "I said you'd have to come and get it, SOLDIER-boy."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation but mirrored her position, knowing that he needed this. Needed to forget, if only for a little while. "Fine. But I warn you, you'll regret this."

She mimicked his eye roll with perfection and raised her fists. "Ditto. You'll be singing my praises by the time I'm through whipping your butt!"

And then she moved like an explosion—fast and furious; all flying fists and darting feet. Momentarily shocked, Zack skipped backwards, blocking each blow with frantic precision. Five minutes or hours later, he flipped to put some distance between them and regarded her with something very close to respect. She was grinning like the maniac she probably was—exhilarated and so full of life she was overflowing. "Is that all you got?" She taunted brightly.

He shook his head—lips twitching again, as they seemed to do often around her. "Please. I haven't even gotten warmed up yet."

He could feel himself going numb—mind sinking deeper and deeper into the fight, leaving all those churning emotions behind. When he lunged forward, putting her immediately on the defensive, he felt anger's tight grip begin to ease. She flipped over him and he dropped, knocking her to ground with a sweeping kick aimed at the back of her legs. She rolled nimbly, rising and shaking off his blow as though it was nothing more a light slap or flick. He raised his eyebrows as he pushed himself upright, inwardly admitting that he had underestimated her.

Not that he would _ever _tell her that.

He blocked her next blow, grabbed her wrist, and flung her forward. She went tumbling but somehow managed to save herself from face-planting into the rough dirt.

Finding her balance again, she grinned happily at him. "You're pretty good."

He shook his head but his lips did their funny little twitch again—trying to smile but not quite able. "Duh, ex-SOLDIER."

"Well, I'm the Great Ninja Yuffie and I'll definitely defeat you!" She pointed a finger at him and moved before he could offer any form of retort, throwing herself at him with shining eyes and flashing teeth.

Her glee was infectious and his lips finally formed at shaky, ghost-like smile as he threw himself fully into the lethal dance.

* * *

"He still hasn't come back."

Aerith turned eyes away from the light slowly chasing the darkness across the sky to the hunched figure next to her. Cloud rested his elbows on his knees and his tired gaze remained fixed on the spot where Zack had vanished from view what felt like hours earlier—bent shoulders conveying his hurt and weariness. Aerith wished there was something, _anything, _she could do but she was just as hurt and tired and no words of comfort rose to her lips.

"I know," she whispered, bowing her head. Every muscle urged her to get up off the steps, chase after Zack, and beat some sense into him. "I know."

Cloud sighed—long and world-weary—and finally slid his eyes from the horizon to her shadowed face. When she peeked out from beneath her bangs, she found compassion and slight understanding looking back. "Should we go after him?"

_Yes, _her heart cried, but her mind knew better. Zack needed time alone—time to think and grieve and vent without anyone hovering over his shoulder. "No." She shook her head with effort. "No. There's nothing we can do."

Cloud's fist slammed into the wooden stairs between them without any real force—a gesture of mild frustration not anger. "I hate this. Watching him try to do everything…."

"I know," Aerith murmured again.

He glanced at her just long enough for her to catch the sympathy crossing through his eyes. It was gone by the time he looked away. "He loves you, you know."

She blinked, honestly surprised. Of all the things she'd expected him to say "he loves you" wasn't on the list. Cloud looked her way again and his lips shifted upward in the beginnings of a smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He let out a long breath. "I … don't remember much. Hardly anything at all, really." It was both unexpected and wonderful to hear no traces of bitterness in his voice. "But I do remember that he used to talk about you. All the time."

Aerith shifted closer to him, searching his eyes for yesterday. "You're … starting to remember things, aren't you?"

He shrugged, pulling his gaze from hers back to the sky. "Some. Mostly bits and pieces. Flashes."

Aerith placed her hand on his arm with a bright smile. "That's a start."

Cloud offered her another faint smile in return. "Yeah."

Patting his arm one more time, Aerith rose and spun around to face him—skirt and braid moving around her in a pink and brown fan. "Come on." The cheer was forced, but not painfully so. "Let's go look around the village. Zack mentioned that the king wants me to see if I can do anything for the villagers. I don't want to wait around here and I don't feel like sleeping. We could get started."

Cloud frowned and shook his head slowly. "I don't know. They don't seem to like me very much." He pointed at his glowing eyes.

In response Aerith grabbed his hand and tugged, urging him to his feet. "That doesn't matter. They'll see past the eyes. Don't worry."

He looked dubious but allowed her to pull him from the steps. "I guess."

She permitted a grin to overtake her mouth and tugged Cloud along toward the village, struggling to keep the weight of worry from crushing her heart.

* * *

The sun was stretching long fingers across the sky, caressing the stars, when he stepped from the helicopter. Reno rubbed one hand across his bloodshot eyes while rolling the tension and lingering aches from his shoulders. It was a long way from Midgar to Wutai and flying solo only made the miles pass much slower than usual.

The sleepy village was gradually waking—lights flickering out one by one as the sun reached down to brush the rooftops and hills and trail its fingertips across the face of the great Da Chao Statue. It was a more beautiful sight than he had seen in a long time, vastly different than the twisted ruins of Sector 7 and the gray mako skies of Midgar. He took a long moment to drink it in, letting it chase some of the shadows away.

It was a new start. The minute he stepped down into the village, he left behind everything he'd known for the better part of his life. Sighing softly, Reno double-checked his weapons, making sure each was fully functional, and began his trek down the hill.

The chopper sat still and silent behind him—the Shinra logo sharp against its smooth black sides.

The Turk didn't look back.

* * *

Zack sucked air desperately into his lungs as he brushed sweaty bangs from his stinging eyes. Yuffie stared up at him from the ground, looking divided between frustration and elation.

Zack grinned at her, feeling halfway content. "What was that about whipping my butt?"

Yuffie groaned and thumped her fist against the ground in outrage, grumbling under her breath. "Just shut up."

Zack laughed and offered her a hand. Reluctantly she took it and allowed herself to be hauled to her feet. "Just you wait! No one defeats the Great Ninja Yuffie twice! You'd better watch out, SOLDIER-boy."

Zack frowned in exasperation. "What's it going to take to get you to stop calling me that?"

"A whole lot of gil," Yuffie quipped.

Zack shook his head and sighed. Yuffie was becoming more like an annoying little sister with each passing minute. "Keep dreaming."

The ninja's shoulders slumped in mock defeat. "Aww… man."

Zack's lip twitched upwards yet again, but he kept the smile from his face. "About that materia…."

Yuffie waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I'll give it back if it's so important to you."

Zack massaged the back of his neck, kneading the knots out with his fingers. Now that the fight was over the emotions were creeping back and the image of Cloud's hurt eyes and outstretched hand rose unbidden in his mind, refusing to leave until acknowledged.

"_We're friends … right?" _

It still hurt like a knife to his heart for reasons he couldn't explain. But the words meant Cloud was remembering and even though Zack wanted his friend to be free from the dark shadows of the past, a selfish part of him would be glad when Cloud regained his memories and he wouldn't have to face all this alone.

He knew he needed to go back and apologize for his harsh words and abrupt exit. He knew Aerith and Cloud were probably worried sick. But he couldn't bring himself to be responsible—not yet. He would hide at least until some of the raw ache in his soul had faded into blessed numbness.

A hand suddenly waved in front of his face—centimeters from his nose—and he took a step back in surprise. "Huh?"

"Geez!" Yuffie huffed, lowering her hand to her hip. "I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes!"

"I doubt it was that long," Zack deadpanned, feeling too tired for her games.

"Fine! Maybe not that long, but long enough!" The young ninja threw her hands up and rolled her eyes—mimicking the motion he performed so often around her; they really were like siblings.

"What?" He forced himself to focus and push the burdens away for just a little longer.

"I _said_ I wanted to show you something."

He ignored her pointed frustration. "What?"

"What are you, a broken record?" Yuffie accused. Zack just stared, prompting another eye roll. "And just like that he's back to being all boring."

"Hey!" Zack barked, shooting a half-hearted glare in her direction.

Yuffie just chuckled and turned away. Zack blinked in amazement as she vaulted onto the crumbling wall with one large bound. She paused and glanced over her shoulder at him—an echo of that afternoon; and, Gaia, had it really only been a day? "Well, c'mon!"

Figuring he had nothing to lose and wanting to avoid Cloud and Aerith and apologies just a little longer, Zack followed her in silence.

* * *

Water slid across her skin—cool and soothing—as she dipped her hands in the rickety bucket the villagers had shyly offered, smiling at all the curious faces in spite of the weight resting heavy in her heart. Face after face was burned in her mind forever—all sick, all dying, all pleading for some form of hope. Three hours of visiting patients and she was no closer to answers than she had been before.

Every time she touched one of the dark stains on the Wutaians' skin, she heard whispers of death, sorrow, and despair—the planet mourning for those who would be lost. It hurt, knowing there was nothing she could do to save them. The disease was beyond the reach of medicine, beyond even the reach of mako. All she was capable of was providing a smile and encouraging words most of the people couldn't even understand.

A hand gently touched her shoulder and Aerith turned toward a boy who looked to be about Cloud's age with auburn hair and dark eyes. He probably would have been a student if his country hadn't been ravaged by the harsh hands of war.

"Yes?" She asked gently, wondering if he would understand. The people who spoke the common tongue were few here, it seemed, though many probably simply refused in defiance of Shinra.

He smiled tightly. "I was hoping you could look at my sister."

She blinked in slight surprise at the cultured voice that carried only minimal traces of an accent. His clothes weren't as ragged as some of the others so perhaps he came from wealth and culture, however little that meant these days. "Of course. Though there is probably nothing I can do."

He shrugged. "You are the first person to try in a very long time."

Aerith swallowed thickly, fighting off the raw scrape of her emotions against her heart, and looked across the small crowd to Cloud. Her comrade remained in the shadows, trying to blend in—it wasn't easy; whenever he so much as shifted his weight numerous suspicious eyes darted to him and hands reached for concealed weapons.

"Can my friend come?" She asked—determined to make the people accept Cloud, if only a little.

The boy glanced in the blond's direction and frowned at the glowing eyes—shoulders tensing and reminding Aerith he was old enough to remember fire and death and fall of Wutai—but slowly nodded. "Yes."

She touched his arm and offered a grateful smile. "Thank you."

He merely nodded again and started forward through the crowd. "This way."

Aerith and Cloud followed in silence as he led them down several winding streets toward the edge of the city—close to the Great Da Chao Statue. At last they stopped near a house that had been magnificent once upon a time. Now it was slowly wasting away like its owners—bent and crumbling in dozens of places. The boy paused and stared up at the cracked roof—eyes glazed with a thick sheen of memory.

"It used to be a grand house, before the war," he murmured softly. "But now there is no one left to care for it."

"Your parents?" Aerith ventured, guessing the answer and aching because of it.

The boy shook his head, still staring at the house and seeing happier times. "My father died in the war. The disease took my mother."

Aerith offered no condolences. They wouldn't take away the pain. "What's your name?" she asked instead.

The boy glanced at her with another tired, too-old smile. "Akio. My sister's name is Mei."

"That's a beautiful name. I'm Aerith. This is Cloud." She gestured at the silent blond beside her, noting the stiff way Cloud held himself. He'd barely spoken since the owners of the first house slammed the door in their faces at the sight of his glowing eyes.

Akio eyed Cloud warily but bowed slightly. "A pleasure to meet you both."

Cloud inclined his head. "You too."

Pleased they were getting along for the moment, Aerith smiled brightly. "Well, Akio, take me to your sister. I'll see what I can do."

Akio nodded and ushered them into the house. "I am grateful that you came."

Aerith patted his arm reassuringly. "It's the least I can do."

The floor moaned loudly beneath their feet as they moved across the floor through multiple screen doors that had seen better days—carefully avoiding loose boards. At last, Akio stopped in front of a large screen decorated with painted birds and flowers that were slowly fading away to nothing.

Akio traced the worn petals of one of the flowers gently. "This is Mei's room." He took a deep breath, dragging composure up from deep within him and fixing it firmly on his face. "She … she is not doing well. It will not be long…" he trailed off—unable to finish; face a world without his family in it.

Aerith touched the hand resting on the door, running her fingers over the black spots marring the pale skin. "You're sick, too."

Akio pulled his hand away and tugged his sleeve down over the appendage. "It is a blessing. I do not want to live alone."

"Akio…" Aerith murmured sadly—healer's heart cracking.

He shook his head and stepped forward. "I will introduce you to Mei. She will like you."

Before Aerith could protest, he pulled open the door and effectively ended the conversation. Aerith let it go and trailed him hesitantly into the room, motioning for Cloud to stay put outside.

"Maybe it's better…"

The blond nodded before she could finish with understanding sad and sympathetic in his eyes. "I know. I'll wait outside."

She smiled gratefully—glad for his perceptiveness and wishing he was Zack. "Thank you."

He offered her one of those rare smiles that lifted years from his face and made a soundless exit, leaving her alone with Akio and his dying sister. The flower girl pulled a generous amount of air in her lungs and let it out slowly to steady her jittery nerves. Once she felt composed enough, she stepped across the threshold into the small room—eyes instantly drawn to the pale ghost on the bed.

The girl was _too _young—only thirteen or fourteen. Too young to look so sickly and frail. Too young to _die. _For Aerith knew almost instantly Mei's time was up. Death hung around her like a shroud and she suddenly realized perhaps Aiko had merely brought her so his sister could look at a comforting face while she died.

Aerith's heart felt like lead and she longed for Zack's warmth and comfort desperately. But Zack had left her behind while he ran from his demons. Fighting back tears, the flower girl knelt beside the bed on shaky knees, carefully avoiding Aiko's old eyes and the mocking black blotches covering Mei's arms and neck.

"Hello, Mei," she said around the lump in her throat.

Mei's head turned slightly and her dark eyes focused on Aerith's face with effort. Aerith tried to imagine bright eyes infused with life instead of the pools of shadow she saw before her. Instead of focusing too hard on the glazed orbs, Aerith moved her gaze the dark braid resting on Mei's chest, resting on her stomach—if the girl were to stand up her hair would probably reach her waist. It was a messy braid, done by clumsy hands, and an offer to redo it bubbled to Aerith's lips.

"You have pretty hair, Mei," she babbled nervously when the girl remained silent. "I could re-braid it for you, if you like."

Mei blinked sluggishly but smiled. "You are the stranger everyone is talking about." Her voice was breathy and shallow like the wind, strengthening and weakening at random intervals.

"Yes," Aerith affirmed, trying to remain cheerful.

"You … want to braid my hair?" Mei asked with child-like curiosity and adult disbelief.

A sound caught between a laugh and a sob escaped Aerith's lips. "If you don't mind. It truly is beautiful hair."

Mei laughed weak and whispery and nodded, accepting that Aerith couldn't cure her, couldn't save her, and moving on with admirable strength. "I would … like that."

Akio, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, rose to his feet and touched Mei's cheek gently, speaking to her in their native tongue before retreating from the room. At Aerith's questioning look, Mei explained. "He is making tea for us."

Aerith nodded once in understanding and shifted closer to the bed. "Here … can you sit up?"

"I can … try." Mei grunted in pain when Aerith wrapped an arm around her shoulders and carefully pulled her upright, but remained in the sitting position when the flower girl removed her hands.

"My name is Aerith, by the way." She smiled at Mei, feeling a strange kinship with this dying, strong girl.

Mei folded her hands in her lap and reflected the smile back with doubled brightness. "That is a nice name. I like it. Where are you from?"

"Midgar," Aerith answered as she began the process of untangling Mei's long braid.

The girl's eyes widened—looked suddenly young. "So far. Will you tell me of it?"

Aerith closed her eyes and saw the remains of Sector 7, the pale faces of the sick in the slums, the gang fights and the troopers with their gleaming helmets and merciless rifles, and when she opened them again a little girl with eyes of wonder greeted her.

"Of course," she murmured, running her fingers through Mei's hair to dislodge the knots. "Of course."

* * *

"See?!" Yuffie pointed emphatically. "_This_ is what I was talking about."

Zack strode past her to the large tree, frowning as he peered up at the branches. From a distance, it appeared exactly the same as all the other trees in the massive forest but upon closer inspection the ex-SOLDIER saw it was gnarled and withered, slowly dying—and abnormal black patches marred its trunk.

His glowing eyes widened at the sight of them and he reached out an unsteady hand to touch one. Black coated his glove and trickled from his fingers when he withdrew his hand. Thick globs landed noisily on the dry grass as Zack stared with a dark mixture of horror and fascination.

"The trees are bleeding black," Yuffie said from behind him. "And no one knows why."

"The trees are bleeding black," Zack echoed as he scanned the surrounding area and found more trees sporting the strange inky blemishes.

"Yeah, that's what I just said. You really are a broken record!"

Zack forced his gaze back to the ninja, brushing aside her insult. "When did this start happening?"

Yuffie shrugged. "Don't know. We noticed it about two, three, years ago. Not long after people started getting sick. It's gotten a whole lot worse recently, though. Has everybody scratching their heads. Cause, I mean, people getting sick is one thing, but _trees?" _

Zack frowned pensively at the substance still covering his hand. "My thoughts exactly."

"I was hoping you'd know something because, well, you're Shinra and Shinra is usually at the root of all the planet's problems."

Zack shook his head and smiled without any humor. "No. I haven't been Shinra in over five years."

"Aww, man," Yuffie whined, punching a nearby trunk. "And here I thought you'd be useful. I was even going to give you back your stupid materia if you gave me some answers."

Zack's thoughtful look rapidly shifted into a glare aimed at the young ninja. "You're still giving me back my materia."

Yuffie uttered a few words in Wutaian that Zack was almost certain were curses and glowered at him. "I don't see what the big deal is?! It's just some stupid materia. Barely worth anything!"

"Which is why you shouldn't have a problem giving it back," Zack countered smoothly. "Besides, we've got bigger problems." He held up his dripping hand for emphasis and received a drawn-out sigh in response.

"Fine, fine. Let's just head back. We're too close to Shinra's base camp as it is."

"Yeah," Zack agreed, wiping his hand off as much as possible on the trunk of the dying tree. "I want to talk to Aerith. She might know something about this."

He also had apologies he could no longer avoid, but he would never tell Yuffie Kisaragi that.

"All right, SOLDIER-boy. Follow me!"

Grumbling at the nickname, Zack launched himself after the ninja, determined to keep up in spite of his aching limbs and weary mind.

* * *

The death was silent, _sudden. _There were no words of good-bye, no closure, no reassurances; one minute Mei was breathing and the next she wasn't.

Aerith felt her go—heard the sigh of the lifestream as it wearily welcomed another member—and gasped when Mei went limp in her arms, sagging back against her chest like a life-sized doll.

"Mei?!" She cried, though she knew it was pointless. She couldn't hear Mei's breathing or see the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Still, she groped for a pulse, muttering pleas and tearful commands to the planet to send Mei back because she was too young die and Akio didn't deserve to spend his last days alone.

But there was nothing, nothing at all, and Aerith broke.

Weeping, she gathered Mei into her arms and cradled the young girl against her. Apology after apology fell from her lips—for being useless, for sitting and _braiding Mei's hair_ when she should have been searching for a cure, for not realizing sooner how close Mei was to death, for not saying good-bye, for doing _nothing _to ease her pain.

And the fact that Mei had died with the ghost of a smile on her face only made it worse.

Akio heard the noise and came running, throwing open the screen door with such force it nearly tore in two. His eyes widened at the pair on the bed and when Aerith raised her tearful gaze to his all she could do was watch the emotions flicker through his eyes—shock, fear, pain, anger, grief, regret, and finally bitter acceptance.

"So she is gone," he whispered and didn't cry because there were simply no tears left.

"Yes," Aerith choked, shedding enough tears for both of them. "I'm so sorry. I wish…"

"No," he interrupted, moving a few feet closer so he could run his fingers over his sister's cold cheek. "It is better this way. Her suffering is finally over."

"But you…."

Akio offered her a grim smile. "It will not be long for me. Do not grieve, Aerith. My family will be reunited soon."

Aerith shook her head, unable to form words, and slowly lowered Mei's body back onto the bed, brushing the girl's bangs from her eyes with shaking hands. "I am an Ancient," she murmured as her eyes roamed Mei's still face. "I can hear things no other human can and understand things far beyond my grasp. But this … this I will never understand."

"Perhaps," Aiko laid a hand on her shoulder—old and tired and accepting, "It is not for us to know."

Aerith laid her hand over his briefly before rising, feeling her knees knock together under her skirt. Tears still slid fast down her cheeks and she had never wanted Zack more than she did now.

"I must see to Mei's funeral," Akio continued, guiding her to the door. "You should rest. Thank you, Aerith, for everything you have done."

"I did nothing," Aerith bit out more harshly than she intended. "There was _nothing_ I could do."

Akio squeezed her shoulder and this time the smile that rose to his lips reached his eyes and ignited a fleeting spark. "My sister died happy. Of that I know. And that is enough. So thank you." He bowed and Aerith echoed the gesture, trying not to fall as her legs quivered like leaves in the wind.

"Good-bye."

Akio granted her one final smile. "Good-bye."

Turning on her heel, Aerith fled from the room, stumbling through screen door after screen door before she staggered out into the cloudy morning and tripped down the front steps into Cloud's startled arms.

"Aerith," the blond murmured in shock as the flower girl instantly wrapped her arms around him and clung to the back of his jacket with every bit of strength she possessed. "What's wrong?"

Sobs racked her body mercilessly, preventing her from speaking so in reply to the worried question she merely buried her face deeper into Cloud's chest and cried her heart out, wishing he was Zack.

But Zack wasn't here and Cloud was wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace—silently accepting her grief—so she pulled her head away from his shirt and dredged up a teary but appreciative smile.

Cloud was a good friend.

"Come on." He released her but immediately snaked an arm around her trembling shoulders to steady her. "Let's get you back to the palace. The others are probably worried."

All Aerith could do was nod and release more of an endless supply of tears.

* * *

The scene that greeted Zack when he returned wasn't what he had been expecting.

Aerith was slumped on the front steps of the guesthouse—face buried in her lap and arms around her knees. Tifa sat beside her with both arms wrapped around her shoulders, murmuring encouraging words only another woman could offer into her ears. Cloud leaned against one of the trees a few feet away and watched the pair with concerned, protective eyes.

Zack took two hurried steps forward but froze when Cloud's gaze snapped to him and a strange mixture of disappointment, frustration, understanding, and sorrow welled in the blue depths.

Cloud pushed away from the trees and walked over to him with purposeful strides that reminded Zack of someone from the past, pausing only a foot away. "Where were you?" he demanded with more sadness than venom. "She needed you."

The words were another punch in the gut and he almost physically recoiled, realizing for the first time the consequences of his flight. "I…"

He couldn't find an excuse, anything to offer to soothe away Cloud's hurt and disappointment. Glancing over at Aerith's huddled form he felt another knife stab into him deep.

_She needed you. _

He failed again. Left her again. He hadn't been there when Aerith needed him and that was just another broken promise to add to the list.

Cloud sighed and jerked his head in the direction of the two distraught women. "Go. She still wants you here."

Zack touched Cloud's shoulder in a brief gesture of gratitude, tried to smile and failed, and shuffled hesitantly in the direction of the porch.

He'd barely made it five steps when Barrett and Cid barreled into the courtyard, disrupting the quiet scene of grief and healing. Every head turned in the direction of the dust-covered, wild-eyed men with equal amounts of curiosity.

"Zack!" Barrett yelled, hurrying toward the ex-SOLDIER. "You gotta come quick! There's a Turk here!"

For the second time in twenty-four hours Zack felt his world wrenched brutally from beneath his feet. "_What_?"

* * *

**Coming up next--**for the perfect mixture add a ninja and a turkey and stir well.


	29. XXVII: Traitors Wear the Shadows

**Well, this update was a little quicker than the last one. Hopefully it's worth the wait. **

**This chapter and the next were supposed to be one chapter, but it just got to be too long, so AVALANCHE will be staying in Wutai a tad bit longer. Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers. You guys rock my socks! :D And thanks for the wonderful support of the trailer! I'm blessed to have such amazing readers. **

**If you have any questions, I will do my best to answer them. I'm trying to get back to answering reviews, but I can't promise anything. Life is hectic and school is often all-consuming. **

**Please read, enjoy, and review! **

* * *

Zack felt the world plummet away beneath his feet as his heart clawed its way into his throat and his stomach tied itself up in tight knots. He choked on the air leaving his lips and struggled to wrench his mind from the "no, no, no, _no," _loop it had begun. The weight of his companions' frightened and puzzled gazes pushed in on all sides, making him feel like a caged animal.

_No… _

A Turk here? Already? How… why? It didn't make sense—had stopped making sense the night Nibelheim vanished beneath the fury of fire and his once-friend ran a sword through him. Zack wanted to drop to his knees in the middle of the courtyard and scream until he woke up back in Midgar to find this was all just a twisted nightmare. Instead he sealed the cracking pieces of himself back together and faced his two worried comrades.

"What color?"

Cid and Barrett looked at him like he had sprouted wings and a tail. "What?" The pilot asked around the ever-present toothpick in his mouth.

"The hair," Zack impatiently gestured to his own head. "What color was the hair?"

Cid's eyebrows shot so high on his forehead they all but disappeared behind his goggles. His expression plainly conveyed his desire to see Zack committed to a mental institution. "Red," he deadpanned, holding himself back from the many less-than-pleasant things he wanted to say instead.

Beside him Barrett when from confused to furious in the span of a blink. "What?! Is that the Turk that blew up the plate?!"

"Yes," Tifa grit out from her place on the stairs—the promise of revenge bright in her eyes.

Barrett's hand morphed into a gun with a loud series of clicks. "Let's get 'im!" He roared, raising his metal arm like a sword.

Zack tuned out his ranting as he mentally examined this new development. Why would Shinra send only one Turk to deal with them? Yes, Reno was arguably the best of the Turks next to Tseng but even he couldn't handle all of AVALANCHE on his own. And if Cid and Barrett had seen him Reno wanted to be discovered.

_What are you up to? _

"…and then fry 'im alive!"

Zack blinked at Barrett, wondering what he had missed but quickly deciding it wasn't that important. Cid was nodding in vengeful agreement and over on the stairs Tifa pulled Aerith to her feet. Cloud remained silent behind him, but his eyes sparked with the beginnings of rage.

As he surveyed the scene and varying degrees of murder on his comrades' faces, Zack realized a member of their small band was missing. "Where's Red?"

"Inside," Tifa answered tersely as she approached them.

"I'll get him," Aerith volunteered quietly and promptly rushed into the house in a flurry of pink and brown.

Zack frowned, wishing he could hold her and soothe away her pain—whatever it might be—but there was no time. There was never time. It was slipping from his fingers like sand, but he could only watch the world snatch it away.

Sighing, he ran rough fingers through his hair, raking his bangs back from his forehead. "Alright. Let's wait for Red and then we'll discuss strategy."

"We have to get him before he gets us," Cid emphasized his biting advice with a hard chomp on the poor toothpick.

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "But that's definitely easier said than done. Especially because it's Reno. I mean if it was Rod or even Cissnei we would stand a pretty good chance, but Reno?" A nervous laugh slipped from his lips before he could gain control of it. Cid gave him the "you belong in a mental hospital with padded walls and a straightjacket" look again, but had the tact to keep quiet.

The front door slid open and Aerith followed a speeding Red down the steps. The creature crossed the courtyard in a few quick bounds and skidded to a halt near the huddled group. "There is a Turk here?"

"Yeah," Tifa's voice wore an ill-fitting robe of bitterness and anger, aging her drastically. "The one who caused all the destruction in Midgar."

A low growl rumbled from Red's throat and Zack nearly jumped back in surprise. It was the closest to an animal he had ever heard his companion come.

"Look," Zack said, ignoring the spike of fear that ran through him at the sight of Red's glinting eye and teeth, "I know you all want to hunt Reno down and tear him to pieces, but it isn't going to be that easy. Like I said before, he's tough. The best Turk besides Tseng. And in spite of how he acts, he isn't stupid."

"Do you really think he's here to kill us?" Disbelief shaded Aerith's tone.

Zack glanced over at her and frowned, remembering the roar of explosions and Aerith kneeling on the floor of a helicopter with dirt on her face and peace in her eyes. "Why else would he be here?"

Aerith shrugged. "I don't know… It's just… he came for me in the church, before you came back. When Cloud fell through the roof." The flower girl's delicate hands fisted in her skirt and she stared at the pink material as though it held all the secrets of the universe. "He had orders to take me back, but he let me go. There's more to him than you think."

Barrett snorted. "C'mon, he's a Turk. They're killers, monsters, nothin' more."

Zack winced.

"_We are … monsters…" _

_"This is the mark of a monster." _

_"SOLDIER is like a den of monsters. Don't go inside." _

A vivid scene flashed before his eyes: Reno, two years before Nibelheim and in the end of everything, with fresh scars on his face and deep sadness lurking in his normally vibrant eyes.

_"Hey, Fair, promise me something. Promise you'll never forget Turks are human, 'kay? Somebody has to remember." _

"Maybe … Aerith's right," Zack whispered.

"What?" Cid barked.

Zack shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. "Just … something feels … well … off. I don't think we should rush into this."

Cid snorted. "So what do ya want us to do? Sit down with Turk-boy and have tea?"

"No," Zack huffed defensively. "I just think we should talk to him before trying to rip his head off."

A few colorful words escaped Cid's mouth as the frustrated pilot ground the toothpick closer to shreds.

Tifa shoved him. "Stop swearing," she grumbled before turning her ire to Zack. "And you, what makes you think he'll talk to us? I say we attack first and ask questions later."

"What good will that do?" Zack argued. "It will only make Shinra angrier and that's the last thing we need!"

"Better than bein' offed by a Turk," Barrett cut in adamantly.

"Perhaps Zack is right," Red muttered reluctantly. "We should not jump to conclusions. We can question him and then exact our revenge."

"I agree." Aerith's skirt was slowly being reduced to a pink mess in the grip of her nervous hands.

"Me too," Cloud spoke up. "We should be careful."

Tifa threw up her hands and sighed. "Fine. Fine. We'll do it your way."

Barrett eyed them like traitors before surrendering with a gruff snort, transforming his gun back into a much safer metal arm. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Cid spat out the ruined toothpick and adjusted his goggles. "Guess that settles that."

"Yep," Zack agreed cheerfully—pleased to have won another round with Barrett. His glee quickly faded away, though, as he slipped into SOLDIER mode. "Let's split up. If you find him, contact the rest of the group via PHS. Don't try to fight him. You'll just end up dead. No matter how big your weapon is." The ex-SOLDIER threw a pointed look in Barrett's direction and the big rebel grumbled under his breath.

"What if none of us can find him?" Tifa asked grimly. "He's a Turk, after all."

"We'll find him." Zack left no room for doubt in his voice. "Don't worry."

Tifa inclined her head briefly in assent and AVALANCHE fanned out, vanishing quickly into the now-bustling city. Zack remained alone in the courtyard and sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for facing Reno again. As he slipped out the gates, nodding to the wary guards, he felt annoyance slice threw him.

He was really getting tired of ghosts coming back to life.

* * *

"Reno has reached Wutai."

Elena felt a bit of tension run out of her shoulders at Rufus's proclamation. She had been half worried her old comrade would fly the helicopter into a mountain or something, with how unstable he had been recently.

"Good." A tired breath trailed in the wake of the clipped word.

The corner of Rufus's mouth curled up in a bemused smirk. Here in the comfort of his office after the building had almost emptied of employees, he allowed his emotions and personality a little more freedom. "Relieved, Elena?"

Elena straightened. "Of course not, sir."

The smirk broached the borders of a smile. "Really?"

Elena held onto her composure, keeping her expression cold. "Yes, I was just concerned that he would screw up the assignment or something, sir. You've seen his record."

Rufus shook his head, examining numerous memories of Reno standing in his office trying to conjure up a good explanation for why the mission hadn't exactly turned out the way it should have. "You're right about that."

Elena paused, slight hesitation crossing her usually impassive face. Rufus braced himself for the oncoming question. "Sir?"

"Yes, Elena?"

Elena sighed, struggling for a way to ask her question without giving her true feelings away. "Reno isn't coming back, is he?"

Rufus frowned, reminded of why Elena was the first female Turk. Nothing slipped past her. "No. He's going to be our connection to AVALANCHE. He'll help them from the inside."

"Can't Cait Sith do that?"

"Not even Cait Sith has the security access of a former Turk."

Elena's lips pressed together in a thin line. "I see."

"He'll be fine, Elena."

Elena sighed and flicked a stray piece of hair from her hazel eyes. "What about the others, sir?"

Rufus mimicked Elena's ponderous exhale and turned away, crossing the floor to stand in front of the expansive windows. He stared at his reflection in the glass, refusing to look out at the ruins of Sector 7. He wasn't sure how to proceed. Not that he would admit that to Elena. They had grown closer in the past week and a half and he was beginning to feel uncharacteristically off-balance whenever he was around her. He didn't know what it was that made him feel this way. He had known Elena for years and never once felt like this…

"Sir?"

He dragged himself out of his self-analysis and ruthlessly crushed the strange butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He didn't have time for such things. "I'm not worried about Cissnei, she'll join. Rod will probably follow her. Those two have always been close. As for Zane, Rude, and Tseng, I fear that they will remain with the president."

Through the distorted mirror of the glass, Rufus watched Elena's hand clench in a fist at her side. "I guessed as much. I know Tseng. He won't just walk away. The only reason he ever did before was because Shinra was threatening a man he respected. Even then, he came back as soon as they called off the assassination orders. Bringing down the company? He would never agree to that. Neither would Rude. Or Zane."

Rufus pressed his forehead to the window, watching his breath fog up the glass. "I know. It won't be easy with them against us."

"It's a shame," Elena whispered almost inaudibly. "I don't want to fight them. Not after we've been through so much together."

Rufus turned back to Elena, surprised she had shared such personal information. Elena had always been aloof and distant, keeping well inside the boundaries of her role as a Turk. Hearing her sound so vulnerable was unsettling.

"Elena, I can understand how this must be hard…"

Elena's eyes flashed, gold flecks sparking through the brown. "Yes, it may be hard, but I will remain loyal to you, sir. I swear it. I made my choice and I don't go back on my word, ever." Her tone was fierce, normal, and Rufus almost grinned at the biting words.

She would be alright.

"Of course, Elena. I apologize for implying disloyalty on your part. I trust you."

Elena huffed quietly and adjusted her suit jacket. "Yes, sir."

Rufus smiled at her—inwardly surprised at how easily it came. Yes, Elena was beginning to affect him in strange ways.

Elena returned the smile with a brief one of her own and glanced around the office. "So, what's the next step, sir?"

"We need to figure out what's happening in Wutai."

Elena tilted her head and arched a curious eyebrow. "Wutai?"

"Yes," Rufus replied, moving to his desk and idly fingering a few of the pens resting on the smooth surface. "The old man has been searching for something out there. I'm not sure what. He's kept it in the dark, hiding it even from most of the higher ups. I think only Hojo, Scarlet, and Heidegger are in on his plans."

"Hmm." Elena raised her eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully. "Getting information from Hojo is out of the question. Not even Turks are allowed in the labs. Scarlet is also probably a no-go, but Heidegger would be easy to follow."

"True. He's a fool." Rufus didn't bother masking the contempt in his voice. "But I'm sure the President has taken measures to make sure none of this is discovered. We need to be careful."

"Of course, sir."

Rufus picked up one of the pens and balanced it on his finger. "Cait Sith is too conspicuous in this instance."

"So you want me to snoop around?"

"For lack of a better term, yes."

Elena smirked, eyes coming to life at the prospect of a challenge. "With pleasure, sir. Snooping, for lack of a better term, is one of my specialties."

Rufus chuckled wryly. "Most certainly. Report back with whatever you find. We'll take it to Reeve."

"Yes, sir." Elena left the room as quickly and silently as a phantom.

Rufus shook his head, still mildly impressed after all the years Elena spent at his side. He was glad to have her.

He just hoped she would be enough.

* * *

A flash of red caught his eye and he skidded to an abrupt halt, whirling in time to see a crimson ponytail disappear around the corner of the narrow backstreet. Smirking in triumph, Zack drew his sword and followed at a run, tearing around the corner with the weapon raised and war blazing hot in his glowing eyes.

The sword cut through empty air. Zack gritted his teeth and mentally kicked himself.

_Gah. Should've known… _

A soft crunch brushed across his sensitive ears—dirt and fine rocks breaking beneath the weight of a boot. Zack spun, bringing his sword up, and stopped the weapon inches from Reno's face. The sharp blade hovered dangerously close to the Turk's shoulder and in return Zack felt the cold press of a mag rod against his chest.

"Reno…" Zack growled.

Reno smirked, unperturbed by the massive weapon. "Hey, Fair. Long time no see. You're a hard man to find."

"Could say the same about you," Zack muttered. "We've been looking for hours."

Reno's smirk grew taunting. "Aww, c'mon, Fair, I wasn't about to make it easy for you. Where's the fun in that?"

Hardly finding it funny, Zack hissed and lowered the blade until it barely touched Reno's shoulder. "Why are you here, Reno?"

Reno's eyes iced over. "Easy, Fair," the Turk warned. The EMR pressed harder, pushing against Zack's skin through the heavy fabric of his sweater. "Don't forget what I'm capable of."

"Fry me and I drop the blade," Zack fired back. "Then you can say good-bye to your arm."

Reno lifted his free shoulder in a dismissive shrug. "Yeah, I'd lose an arm but you'd be dead. That's a bit more permanent, don't you think?"

Zack narrowed his eyes and kept the blade on Reno's shoulder. "You never answered the question. Why are you here?"

"I didn't come to kill you, if that's what you're asking." Zack couldn't detect any lie in Reno's voice, but he didn't relax.

Never trust a Turk. It was one of the rules of Shinra, of the entire planet, and he wasn't about to disregard it because Reno had once been his friend.

"Then what _are _you doing here?"

Reno raised his chin, eyes flashing defiantly. "I'm defecting."

Well, _that, _was unexpected. Blindsided and stunned, Zack nearly lost his grip on the sword. "Wh-what?"

"I'm defecting," Reno repeated without hesitation. "You know, leaving, kissing Shinra good-bye, turning traitor—however you want to word it."

Zack opened his mouth, found that no words could escape, closed it again and bit his lip as he tried to deal with the massive curveball he'd been thrown. "Why?"

Reno lowered his arm and stepped away from the jaws of the sword. Zack let him go, watching with wary eyes. But Reno didn't attack, merely collapsed his EMR and slid it back into its sheath in his sleeve. When he looked back at Zack his eyes were haunted in the same way they had been after Heidegger had ordered marks carved into his skin. "I grew up in Sector 7."

Zack inhaled sharply, blindsided again. That changed everything and in one horrible moment, he understood.

"You didn't know," he whispered in shock.

Reno shook his head. "Tseng told me it would trigger some kind of security device that would trap you. He never said anything about bringing the plate down." A dark, bitter laugh chilled the air between them. "Shouldn't have believed him."

"So you're defecting?"

"Yep," Reno answered with painfully false cheer. "I never liked Shinra, Fair. I joined because it was the only way out of the slums. This was just the final straw."

"So what will you do now?" Zack ventured. "Hide out in Wutai?"

Reno's grin was maniacal. "I figured AVALANCHE can use all the help they can get."

And yet another curveball. It was dizzying. "You … you want join?!" Zack winced as his voice rose about an octave.

Reno chuckled and nodded. "Yeah. C'mon, Zack, a Turk on your side? That's a golden opportunity. And I get the chance to exact a little revenge. It's perfect for everybody."

Zack frowned and returned his sword to its resting place on his back. "Except you could be lying."

Reno smiled and for once there was no sarcasm in it. "You'll just have to take that chance, I suppose."

"You could be a spy."

"I could."

"Shinra could be trying to plant you in our group to get information."

"They could."

Zack sighed irritably and ran a hand through his hair, further mussing the black spikes.

Reno stepped forward, eyes boring into Zack. "Or… I could really be defecting and offering all the knowledge I have on Shinra. Which is worth my life, by the way. Shinra will send their bloodhounds after me as soon as they realize I'm not coming back."

"Which only means more trouble for us." Zack stubbornly pointed out.

Reno scoffed. "Please, give me some credit, here. I can dodge them."

It was fight to keep a smile from his lips. "Still… this brings us back to the issue of you possibly being a spy."

Reno shrugged. "It's a risk you'll have to take. Let me talk to your little posse. We'll see what they say."

"They'll want to shoot you first and ask questions later," Zack replied flatly.

Reno grinned mischievously. "Not if you vouch for me."

"No," Zack waved his hands. "No, I'm not taking sides in this. I don't trust you, either."

"At least get them to agree to talk to me. I'll prove myself on my own." Reno's stance made it perfectly clear he wasn't going to let the issue go until Zack agreed.

The ex-SOLDIER finally rubbed a hand across his face in exasperation. "Fine. Fine. We can talk to them. But if you end up full of holes, don't blame me."

Reno arched an eyebrow. "Please, Fair, like I said before, give me some credit."

"Right," Zack deadpanned. "I forgot."

Reno rolled his eyes. "Just take me to them."

Zack knew he was going to regret this, _a lot, _but he still motioned for Reno to follow him out of the street and dialed Tifa on his PHS.

_I have a bad feeling about this…_

* * *

The vent was cramped and the recycled air left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue, heightening the feeling of entrapment which she mercilessly crushed. She was a Turk and above such things. Unlike Reno, she didn't suffer from acute claustrophobia so an hour or so in a dark vent was only a little uncomfortable.

Beneath her, Scarlet and Heidegger sat at a large conference table—an ocean of wood between them—and murmured back and forth in hushed tones. Elena adjusted her position and pressed her ear to the grate, feeling incredibly silly and frustrated over this low-tech spying operation. On most missions, she gathered information using a disguise or bugging devices, not hiding in the vents like a common eavesdropper.

But, this investigation left no time for adequate preparation. It had taken her a lot of questions buried in small talk and Reeve's hacking skills to discover the time and place of Scarlet and Heidegger's next meeting. The whole affair was very hush hush, which only heightened Elena's suspicion.

What could they possibly be discussing that required them to meet after hours in the shadows?

Elena closed her eyes and concentrated, evening out her breathing and pouring every bit of her mental focus into picking up the two executives' conversations.

After an agonizing minute, she began to catch bits and pieces.

"…we've finally found it." Scarlet sounded triumphant and Heidegger chuckled darkly.

"…I can hardly believe it. …all this time…"

"…start to extract it … need the Ancient to…"

Elena's eyes widened. Ancient? Were they talking about the flower girl Aerith Gainsborough?

"Hojo says … tests … take some time…"

"… crazy. Don't have … for those kind of …."

"I know but … book more important … don't need the girl if we…."

_Book? _Elena frowned, puzzled. None of this made sense. If only she could get closer. Biting her lip, Elena leaned forward, pushing against the grate until the metal left marks on the side of her face. Silently, she begged them to speak louder.

"…true. What about Rufus?"

"Doesn't ... anything. Not … threat … not yet."

"Fine. But still … should …."

"I know! Don't order me around, Heidegger." Scarlet suddenly raised her voice, momentarily startling the eavesdropping Turk.

Heidegger sneered at his female co-conspirator. "You're not in charge either, Scarlet. Don't forget that."

Scarlet leaned across the table, dark eyes flashing warnings at her pudgy companion. "I haven't forgotten, but you would do well to remember that I currently have the President's favor. After all, you were the fool that let AVALANCHE slip through your fingers in Junon."

Heidegger slammed his meaty hands down hard on the polished table, rising half out of his seat. "That wasn't my fault!" He roared. "If I didn't have to babysit the Vice President…"

"Excuses won't get you anywhere," Scarlet cut in sharply. "And this is not what we came to discuss."

Up in the vent, Elena squeezed her eyes shut and restrained herself from breaking through the grate and shooting them both.

Heidegger spluttered for a moment, too furious to form an adequate comeback for the blonde woman's dismissal.

Knowing she had won, Scarlet rocked back in her seat with a smug smile. "Sit down and let's continue."

Heidegger sank back into his seat with a heated oath and crossed his arms, looking remarkably like a sulking five-year-old who had received a slap on the hand by his mother.

"And keep your voice down. This is for our ears only."

Heidegger spat another curse at Scarlet but, much to Elena's irritation, lowered his tone. "Fine then … were talking …"

"Yes," Scarlet continued. "need to find … get book … can't translate … without the Ancient."

"… could be … problem. What … Gast?"

"No … most of … research was lost."

"Humph. Because … Hojo…"

"That doesn't matter … can't focus on … past…."

"Humph. Fine … still … an issue.

"I will … to the president. You keep an eye … Rufus."

"Why do I get stuck babysitting…?"

"Junon."

Heidegger grumbled angrily but too softly for Elena to pick up any words. They were most likely curses, anyway, and therefore unimportant. Scarlet watched her furious companion with arrogant amusement. "It hardly matters. We're done for now. We cannot move forward without talking to the president."

Heidegger nodded a taciturn agreement. Realizing the meeting was finished for the night, Elena quietly eased away from the grate and made a hasty retreat down the vent. Sliding out of the grate in the storage closest feet first, the Turk landed in a nimble crouch amidst the mops and brooms, managing to catch a few before they hit the floor and caused a racket. She straightened slowly and set the cleaning tools back in their proper place before pulling her PHS from the pocket inside her jacket and swiftly punching in Rufus's number.

The vice president picked up after the second ring. "Elena?"

"We need to talk," Elena said briskly. "I have some new information."

"Very well. I will contact Reeve. Meet us in his office. It's more secure."

"Yes, sir. I will be there shortly." The phone shut with a sharp _click. _

Elena exited the closet, checking the hallway to make sure it was empty, and locked the door behind her. The journey through the darkened halls to Reeve's office, located on the same floor as Rufus's, was quick and uneventful. No guards were stationed this high up—the executives coveted their privacy—and the ones manning the cameras would think nothing of a Turk in the building late at night.

No one questioned the Turks.

The door to Reeve's office was tucked at the end of a small hallway and Elena rapped on the metal three times, listening as the sound bounced gleefully off the walls, dancing across the room in a brief jubilee before dying away to nothing. The hiss of the door opening trailed in its wake and Reeve ushered her in with a tight façade of calm. She nodded to him and offered an attempt at a reassuring smile. Her lips only moved a few millimeters before the smile died, but Reeve still returned it.

Rufus was waiting in a chair in front of Reeve's desk and he shot to his feet when she entered. For a moment he almost looked relieved, but it was surely her imagination. Rufus Shinra did not worry about anyone enough to feel relief when they escaped harm.

"Elena, what did you find out?" He asked without preamble.

Elena unconsciously adjusted her posture and tilted her chin up the way she always did when reporting to Tseng. Locking her eyes on Rufus's, Elena began retelling the snippets of the meeting she had overheard.

"I wasn't able to pick up much, sir. They mentioned that whatever they were looking for in Wutai has been found and I suspect that it's rather large, because they mentioned that they need to extract it."

"Interesting," Reeve murmured as he sank into the chair Rufus had previously occupied.

"Hmm," Rufus hummed in agreement and motioned for Elena to continue.

"They also talked about 'the Ancient.' I'm assuming this is the flower girl from Midgar, Aerith Gainsborough?"

"Yes," Rufus raked his bangs back from his forehead. "As far as I know she is only Ancient left on the planet."

"They spoke of a book and said it was more important than the girl, but I believe that they need Gainsborough to use the book. They also mentioned Dr. Gast."

Reeve ripped his gaze away from the floor and fixed on her face with surprising intensity. "Gast? What could they possibly want with Gast?"

Rufus frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. Mostly likely it's his research on the Ancients that they're after. Though I don't know if there is any research left to find."

"Sir?"

Rufus glanced at her and smiled a thin, waning smile that faded after only a few seconds. "Gast was before your time, Elena. He was head of the science department before Hojo and one of the scientists who originally began experimenting with mako and SOLDIERs. However, he turned to the Ancients and made remarkable discoveries about them. He was the one who found the ruins in Mideel. However, he died suddenly about twenty-one years ago."

Reeve scoffed. "Hojo killed him, you mean. It was never proven, but everyone knew the truth."

Rufus nodded affirmatively. "True. Gast's research died with him. At least, that's what we always believed. It could be that Hojo held onto some of it."

Elena pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, running through strategies and possibilities, holding each up to the harsh light of logic and examining them closely. Rufus crossed his arms and waited, knowing her well enough to understand. At last she looked up and the foundations of a plan burned in her eyes.

"It seems to me, sir, that Hojo is the best option for information."

Reeve tugged at the sleeve of his suit. "Yes, I agree with you. However, getting information from Hojo is nearly impossible. Like … trying to make it snow in Costa Del Sol."

Rufus lifted any eyebrow in bemusement at Reeve's attempt at using metaphors. "Nothing is impossible, Reeve. Who said anything about asking Hojo himself? The man's a lunatic."

Elena had been unfortunate enough to meet Hojo several times during her career as a Turk and each encounter left her feeling cold and slimy. The scientist was much creepier than any man she had ever met in the slums, and that was saying something. Digging around in his personal research was not an appealing idea but sadly the only one available.

"The Vice President's right, Reeve." Elena crossed her arms and easily shrugged on her "business mode." Not even Reno could win a fight when Elena put on that particular jacket. "I can get into Hojo's lab and see if there is any of Gast's research left."

Rufus held up a hand. "Wait a minute, Elena. We should think this through before we go charging into Hojo's lab. If we're caught, I have no idea what will happen and the man has more security than the president. He's paranoid and insane—a dangerous combination. We need to be careful."

"Do you know of another way, sir?" Elena challenged.

Rufus blinked, taken aback, and futilely racked his brain for a decent response before shrugging his shoulders in weary defeat. "No."

He paused and seemed to reach a decision of some kind. Alarm bells went off in Elena's head when a new glint sparked in his pale blue eyes. She had seen that look many times over the years and it usually meant Rufus was about to do something that would make her job very, very difficult.

"If you go, I go with you."

"What?!" Reeve and Elena cried simultaneously.

Rufus regarded them with a miffed expression. "I am perfectly capable of handling myself."

"That's not the point," the normally mild-mannered Reeve bit out.

"Sir, I cannot allow you to walk into danger like that!"

"And I'm not about to let you go wandering into Hojo's lab without backup." Rufus shot back, unwavering.

Elena clenched her fists and Reeve pushed himself out of the chair. "That's what Cait Sith is for. He can be back up."

Rufus snorted. "With all due respect, I'm not trusting Elena's life to a cat in a crown and a cape."

Now it was Reeve's turn to look miffed. "Cait Sith is perfectly capable of protecting Elena."

"And so am I."

"I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself!" Elena interjected, drawing the conversation back to her. "I am a Turk. I can do this."

"Have you ever had to infiltrate any enemy territory without one of your comrades to back you up?" Rufus pressed.

Elena faltered, frantically sifting through her memories but finding nothing to contradict Rufus's pointed question. "I…"

"No, you haven't." Rufus answered without any arrogance. "I am an excellent shot and I can take care of myself. I'm going. Besides, I would like to look at Hojo's research myself."

"Sir…" Elena protested and shot a helpless look at Reeve, but the battle was lost.

Reeve sighed, defeated, and massaged his forehead, feeling a migraine stirring. "Fine. But I will have Cait Sith on standby."

Rufus nodded—compliant after such a victory. "Agreed."

Elena drew her eyebrows together in a distinct look of displeasure. "I don't like this, sir."

Rufus remained unmoved. "I know, Elena. But I'm not going to change my mind."

"I know, sir," Elena muttered. "I know."

Rufus graced her with a small smile and for some reason she felt comforted.

Maybe they really could pull this off.

* * *

In all the times he had stopped and considered the way he would die, Reno had never once imagined it would be from being choked by a metal hand attached to a furious bear of a rebel.

Yet here he was.

"Damn Turk! I'm gonna kill ya!" The bear roared and as his vision began to go white Reno could hear Fair screaming in the background, probably demanding his release. He sounded far away, like he was standing across the courtyard instead of right next to them insistently tugging on Barrett's unmoving arm. He kicked out at the marble chest in front of him and tried to pry the merciless fingers loose but they stubbornly held their bruising grip on his throat.

_Yeah … trying to talk to them was a bad idea. Elena will never let me live this one down. _

Other voices swirled around him like a churning sea, fading in and out the way the waves caressed the shore before retreating. He was pretty sure they were cheering Barrett on so he didn't pay close attention to what they were saying. Instead he focused on getting air into his screaming lungs and forcing his oxygen starved brain to form words.

"W-wait… can … explain…."

Barrett shook him like a rag doll and his teeth knocked together painfully. "Sure ya can, you bastard! Bet you have a great explanation for why you killed all those people!"

So talking was a no go. Reno dropped one hand from Barrett's wrist and began fumbling for the gun tucked in his shoulder holster. Black began to creep into the edges of his already blurry vision and it was another agonizing minute before his clumsy fingers closed around the weapon.

"Barrett, stop! This isn't going to solve anything!" Fair again. He had to give the guy credit. He didn't give up.

Pulling the gun free, Reno jabbed it hard into Barrett's chest. "Let … me … go … or … I … shoot."

Barrett growled and squeezed harder, but the voices in the background swelled to a tidal wave and the man reluctantly released the Turk. Reno dropped to the ground and landed on his hands and knees, coughing and choking on the air suddenly rushing into his lungs.

Aerith ran to his side and Zack hovered close by like a worried mother hen. "Are you alright?" the flower girl asked, placing a gentle hand on his shaking shoulder.

"Peachy," Reno replied when he had regained enough oxygen to speak.

Aerith glared up at an unapologetic Barrett. "What were you thinking? You almost killed him!"

"Humph, he had it comin'! He's the enemy. Probably here to sell us out to Shinra!" If looks could kill, Reno knew he would be chopped to pieces and six feet under. As it was, Barrett's glare seared a hole in him and it took quite a lot of willpower to ignore it.

"If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already and if the president wanted you captured he wouldn't have sent just one Turk to do it. He would have sent the whole cavalry." Reno rubbed his sore throat. There would definitely be some heavy bruising tomorrow.

Wonderful.

Barrett spat into the dirt. "Sure. That's what ya want us to believe!"

"Yeah." Tifa stepped forward and glared at Reno—all hot eyes and tight, angry fists. "Never trust a Turk."

Reno glanced up at her and shrugged. "Good thing I'm not a Turk anymore. I have no love for Shinra. Just ask Fair."

Zack chuckled nervously as six pairs of eyes locked on him. "He's telling the truth."

Reno carefully picked himself up off the ground, clutching the gun tightly in his left hand and waving off Aerith's concern with his right. She backed away grudgingly, only giving up the fight to help with he presented her with a halfway genuine smile. "I'm fine." He glanced at Zack and let the smile die a quick death. "Hey, Zack, can I talk to you alone?"

For a minute Fair looked ready to refuse, but instead he nodded and beckoned toward a tree-filled corner of the courtyard. "Over there."

The rest of AVALANCHE began to protest, but Zack shook his head and killed the words before they could escape. "No. I can handle myself, guys. Don't worry."

Their faces told him they were going worry no matter what he said but he stubbornly ignored them and followed Reno into the small cluster of sakura trees. "What?"

"I have something for you." Reno felt a bit of satisfaction at Zack's surprised expression. He could still throw curveballs like no one else. That was a small silver lining.

"Something for _me?_" Fair repeated incredulously.

"Yep." Reno reached into his jacket and pulled out the crumpled white envelope he'd thrust there when they'd supposedly found Zack and Cloud's bodies in the rain.

He handed it to Fair without pause and grinned brightly, feeling a rush of happiness. "Mission complete. Finally."

Baffled, Zack took the envelope from him and held it as if it was a ticking time bomb and not a dirty, crinkled piece of paper. Reno rolled his eyes. "It's not rigged or anything. I promise."

Zack gasped and held the envelope at eye level, staring at the nearly illegible address. "This is Aerith's handwriting. How did you get this?"

Reno shrugged, hoping Fair wouldn't see through the lie of casualness. "She sent them to us. She wrote eighty-nine of them. Tseng wanted to deliver them to you and Cissnei had a plan to get you away from Shinra. We weren't going to let you die." He surprised himself at the fierce honesty coating his voice, but he couldn't forget the image of Cissnei with tears swimming in her large eyes as he told of Zack Fair's death.

Now Zack treated the envelope like it was a bar of gold. "You … you really are defecting."

Reno nodded cheerfully. "Yep. Told you."

Zack blew out a stunned breath and then his face split into a megawatt grin. "It's about time you got out!"

Reno chuckled. "Yeah. No kidding. So, does this mean I'm a part of the group now?"

"Well, we'll have to convince Barrett but I'm sure he'll come around."

Reno winced and carefully kneaded his still-aching throat. "I sure hope so. For all our sakes."

Zack laughed and clapped Reno on the shoulder. "I'm really glad you're here." His voice held no traces of a lie and Reno squirmed uncomfortably at such a personal admission, finally deciding to deal with it like always.

"Sure you are." He returned to Zack's smile. "You get a one-way ticket into all of Shinra's restricted areas. What more could you want?"

Zack laughed, but his eyes were serious. "Maybe, someone who understands."

Reno's eyes softened slightly. "Well, there's always that, too."

Zack paused—a thoughtful frown slowly pulling his lips downward as he turned the envelope over in his hand. "Hey, Reno, you said Aerith wrote eighty-nine letters. What happened to the rest?"

Reno kept his expression casual even though a nervous laugh was bubbling in his throat. "They fell off a cliff."

Zack raised his eyebrows in surprise and question.

Reno fidgeted, playing with the zipper on his suit jacket. "Don't ask."

Zack shrugged and let the issue slid. "Wasn't gonna."

* * *


	30. XXVIII: Walking Backwards

**Well, finals week is winding down, which means more free time, which means updates! This is a long chapter without much action, but it is a very pivotal chapter, trust me. I'm a little nervous about one particular character in this, who's name I will not mention for fear of giving too much away, but if I don't get him/her/it in character, I'm sure one of my awesome readers will tell me.**

**Another little note, I've changed some of Zack and Cloud's back story for plot purposes. Though Crisis Core leaves a lot to be explained so you could just call it filling in the holes. =3**

**Enjoy and review!**

* * *

_He hated the sound his sword made when it pierced the armor and bone of his enemies. He hated the way blood often bubbled on their lips and their eyes flooded with shock. He hated the way they would sometimes stutter out pleas of mercy even though they were already dying and there was nothing he could do to change it. He wasn't a god. Not even close. _

_He knew he shouldn't feel the tiny pinpricks of remorse that stabbed when he cut down solider after solider. He knew he shouldn't occasionally wonder if they had someone waiting for them at home who would cry when they died. He knew he shouldn't feel anything at all._

_But he did. _

_Hojo had tried to crush the humanity within him; and it was almost dead, but not completely. Not yet. It still clung to him like liquid mako, refusing to fully let him become the monster Hojo always wanted him to be. _

_He hated it. It would easier not to feel. So much easier. _

_He stared down into the sightless eyes of yet another Wutaian soldier and tried to crush the emotions stirring feebly within him ._

_Nothing happened. _

_Sighing, he stepped over the body, wiping his sword on the muddy leg on his pants. There were more soldiers hiding in the thick, twisting trees and his orders were to destroy every last one. The war had dragged on long enough. The president had decided that it was time to crush all opposition. _

_He didn't really care about Shinra, or winning. He just wanted the dull ache in his chest to go away. It died a little more with each new death, so maybe if he fought until there was no one left standing he would be numb at last. _

_A perfect monster. _

_He didn't really want that, but he was willing to accept the horrific title if he meant he no longer had to feel.

* * *

_

_The sea sparkled like a thousand diamonds, throwing the light from the fading sun back up into the arms of the pink-hued sky. A faint breeze stirred the air, carrying smells of salt and fish to his sensitive nostrils. He closed his eyes and breathed it in, letting it saturate his lungs. The rational part of his brain reminded him that this wasn't real and it wouldn't last, but he ignored the little voice of reason. Just for a few moments, he would cherish peace and the feeling of being alive. _

_Over the wind a voice drifted across his ears, rich and filled with enthusiasm as it recited words it had spoken a thousand times before. Smiling, he shook his head and tore his eyes from the sea to the two figures seated a few feet away. _

"…_ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest." _

_Taking a few steps forward, he let the smile grow on his features. "Loveless, Act One." It left his lips without hesitation. He had heard the words a thousand times before, in every situation imaginable. _

_His casual reply earned a smirk from his friend and the book closed with a soft 'thud.' "You remembered." Genesis hopped from his seat with lethal grace. _

"_How can I not?" He replied, tapping one gloved finger against the side of his head. "When you've beaten it into my head." He had never understood Genesis's fascination with Loveless. It was really just a bunch of useless words that would never change anything. In the real world full of wars and battle and death there was no room for poetry. It could only exist here, in this netherworld where they came to escape. _

_Raising his sword, he watched in anticipation as his comrades prepared themselves for battle. They were the only ones he truly enjoyed fighting. With them, it was truly a battle. When he fought them, he felt like a warrior. Out on the battlefields of Wutai, he only felt like a murderer. _

"_Don't take Sephiroth lightly," Angeal remarked with a smile that had grown rare over the years. Even now it no longer came close to his eyes. _

"_Noted," Genesis replied briskly and they both rushed forward. _

_The clanging of steel echoed in the air above the Junon cannon and across the silver of the blades, three pairs of glowing eyes met, sparking with a shared mirth and fire. As Genesis and Angeal jumped backward, he moved forward and the dance began. _

_­_

* * *

_Zack looked tired._

_It was strange, staring at the droop of the younger man's shoulders and the deep circles under his eyes. The image seemed wrong and ill-fitting. Zack was movement—alive and bright and always ready to keep pushing onward toward the next mountain that needed conquering. But now, the newly-appointed First Class looked about ready to collapse into the mud. It was a little worrying. He didn't want to have to carry the boy all the way back to camp if he lost consciousness. _

_Angeal probably had something to do with all of this. It had only been two months since Zack had been forced to kill his mentor. Since then he had aged considerably and the weight of the Buster Sword on his back seemed to be slowly crushing him. _

_Something probably needed to be done to fix Zack before he shattered completely, but it was difficult knowing where to start. He had never been good at comforting other people or bolstering morale; usually he left that to Zack. _

_"Are you alright?" He finally asked, hating how awkward the words felt on his tongue. _

_Fair glanced at him briefly and nodded in a way that looked rushed and unnatural. "Yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, General." _

_Zack was lying. That was easy enough to see, even for someone with no experience in human interaction, but they were in the middle of yet another war and the truth would have to wait. _

_"Fine. But don't pass out on me, Lieutenant, we need to find AVALANCHE." The terrorist group was becoming a growing thorn in Shinra's side and the search for the leader, Elfe, had dragged on for months. Now, they were closer to capturing her than they had ever been and he wasn't about to let Fair's exhaustion stand in the way of success. _

_"Yes, general," Zack mumbled, wiping sweat and mud from his too-pale face. _

_He was about to leave, but something stopped him—an emotion he couldn't put his finger on. "You know, Zack, Angeal wouldn't like seeing you this way. He's at peace. You should move on. Stop seeing that sword as a curse. It's an honor. Angeal wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't think you were good enough to wield it." He wasn't sure where the words had come from or what prompted him to say them. A glance over his shoulder revealed numb shock on Zack's face. _

_He left before Zack could respond, feeling like he should give the kid some space. If Fair wasn't back at camp within fifteen minutes, it would be easy to find him and bodily haul him back. _

_Fifteen minutes later, Zack wandered into the tent, ignoring the annoyed glare directed at him, and smiled his first smile in months. His shoulders weren't drooping anymore and he looked like a human being instead of a walking zombie. _

_"Ready for duty, General." Zack wasn't lying this time. For whatever reason, his words had reached his lieutenant and changed something within him. He wasn't sure how or why, but he wasn't about to question it. _

_He needed Fair, even though he would never admit it aloud. "Good. Now go check on the scouts' progress and be quick about it. We're running behind schedule, Lieutenant." _

_Fair huffed but did as he was told. _

_And for some reason, it was difficult to hold back a smile.

* * *

_

Cloud's eyes shot open and he gasped softly. Glancing around at the shifting darkness, he expected to see the fabric walls of a tent and hear the faint patter of rain outside. It always rained in the jungles between Goganga and Corel, turning the soil to mud and nearly drowning the plant life. It was a miserable place, traversed by few, and therefore perfect for hiding the headquarters of a terrorist organization. It had been a dreary, wet two weeks since he and Lieutenant Fair had been stationed here with orders to flesh out the leader of AVALANCHE.

Cloud froze, shock and horrifying realization halting the thoughts drifting through his head. Shoving himself to his feet, he saw wooden walls instead of canvas and the sleeping figures of Red, Barrett, Cid, Zack, and now Reno.

_Wait… _

Trembling, Cloud tripped his way out of the room, almost stepping on Red in the process. In the corner, Reno cracked open an eye, tensing at the unexpected noise, but seeing it was only a badly-shaken Cloud, he rolled over and went back to sleep. AVALANCHE could deal with their own emotional problems.

Cloud almost fell down the steps into the courtyard and finally stopped a few feet away from the guest house, panting and trying to sort out the conflicting images in his head. Nothing felt right. Where was he? Memories of a rain-soaked jungle clashed with memories of a stately palace guest house. Memories of Zack looking like death warmed over stood against memories of Zack announcing Reno's indoctrination into AVALANCHE with a megawatt grin. Memories of a long, slender sword that was weightless in his hand warred with memories of a sword that took effort to lift and sat heavy but comforting against his back.

Breathing deep and ragged, Cloud clutched his head, trying to figure out which memories were real. They _both _felt right—as clear and solid as the ground beneath his feet and the night wind against his face.

Forcing bleary eyes open, he glanced around the courtyard and struggled to focus on the present.

_Wutai. I'm in Wutai. With AVALANCHE. _

Confusion still lingered, like cobwebs coating his memory. Two pasts and the present flickered in and out of each other, dizzying him. With a soft grunt of pain, he pressed a hand to the side of his head, feeling the pulse of a migraine beneath his skin.

"Cloud?"

Cloud gritted his teeth. They really had to stop doing this. It never accomplished anything, only cut the wounds deeper and widened the tears. An unseen force still compelled him to turn, though, and face the familiar figure standing at the top of the stairs. The irony of their reversed positions struck him, almost drawing a laugh from his dry throat. It got stuck, though, so he swallowed it back down.

"Zack." _Lieutenant_ had risen to his mind first and only with conscious effort he managed to keep it from escaping. He chose not to focus on his almost slip, wondering instead if his friend had some kind of inner alarm system that went off whenever he was in trouble.

Zack descended the stairs slowly, concern tainting the air around him—so thick Cloud could nearly taste it. "Are you okay?"

_No. _Cloud wanted to scream it, but wasn't sure if anyone would hear him, even Zack. "I'm fine."

Zack shook his head, stopping when only about a foot separated them. "You're lying. Did you…" The clouds overhead shifted and the moon pierced through them, bathing the courtyard in silver. As the light fell across their faces, Zack gasped suddenly, lurching forward and grabbing Cloud's shoulders, holding the startled blond in place.

"Z-Zack … what…?" Cloud stared in shock at his friend, alarmed by the horror twisting his face.

"Your eyes!" Zack cried frantically, giving Cloud a small shake. "They're _green…_why are they green?!"

A broken mirror and poisonous green eyes flared in Cloud's memory. With a terrified gasp, he wrenched himself free from Zack's grip and ran trembling fingers under his eyes, fighting the urge to claw them out of his head.

"_What?" _He whispered. "No… no …."

Zack closed the distance between them again, latching onto Cloud's hands before he dug bruises into his face. Forcing down his fear, he stared into the green eyes, watching them flicker to blue and back again. Sephiroth's eyes in Cloud's face. Cloud was shaking in his grip, but Zack couldn't find any words to comfort him.

"I don't understand," he muttered as the green shifted to blue again and stayed. Cloud's eyes, but the green around the pupil was more pronounced that it had been before—a lingering echo of Sephiroth that refused to fade.

"I don't either." Cloud hung his head, staring at Zack's hands gripping his wrists. "Nothing makes sense anymore." He considered telling Zack about the dream—about the rain-soaked battlefield, the muddy jungle, the sun-kissed cannon, the two soldiers who felt important to him, and Zack himself with grief in his eyes and dark circles etched into his skin—but decided to keep silent.

This was his burden. Zack had enough weight to bear.

Zack let go of Cloud's wrists with a quiet sigh. Cloud swallowed thickly, hoping desperately that Zack would leave him in peace. Instead, the question Zack blurted managed to completely blindside the tired blond. "You're … still Cloud, right?"

Cloud sucked in a startled breath, fixing wide eyes on his best friend. He knew he needed to say yes, but the word got stuck in his throat, just like the laugher had. When he finally opened his mouth "I don't know" came out instead.

He couldn't face the hurt and dismay in Zack's eyes so he whirled and ran, taking the same path Zack had the night before.

"Cloud!" Zack's voice chased him but he outran it.

Finally, when the courtyard was out of sight, the blond stopped and leaned his back against a weathered old wall. Tilting his head toward the cloudy sky, he sighed and fought off the despair that was trying to crush him.

He'd been right. They really needed to stop doing this.

* * *

Zack punched a tree, suppressing a yell of frustration. Why did this keep happening? Every time he thought they'd been making progress, they only ended up walking backwards. When Cloud woke up in Midgar it was supposed to be _over. _They were supposed to move on with their lives in peace and leave all the pain from those dark labs behind. Now, he was beginning to realize how stupidly naïve he'd been. Leaving Hojo behind hadn't changed much at all, and healing was a much slower process than he'd first thought. Sighing, Zack hit the tree again for good measure, wondering if he should chase after Cloud.

"What did the tree do to you?"

Aerith's voice startled him and he turned in surprise to face her. She left her perch on the stairs and approached him, pulling her jacket close to ward off the chill. Nervously, Zack wondered how long she had been there.

"I heard most of that," Aerith answered the unspoken question. Zack inwardly winced at the cold undercurrent in her voice. They still hadn't gotten a chance to sit down and talk about what happened last night and this morning. Everything was happening so fast, there was no time for much of anything, let alone talking.

"I should go after him," Zack muttered—not really wanting to face Aerith and worried Cloud would get himself hurt if left alone for too long, as confused as he was.

Aerith crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern glare. "He let you go so now you need to let him go."

"That was different…."

"Was it?" Aerith cut off his protest. "It doesn't look that way to me."

"Aerith…" Zack tried again.

"No!" Aerith cried, unfurling her arms in favor of clenching her hands into angry fists at her sides. "You have to give him something, Zack! You have to give _us _something! I know you're falling to pieces inside. I can see it. But you won't let me in!" Aerith took a few steps closer, shoving against Zack with enough force to push him back a step. He stared down at her in numb shock, uncertain of what to say or do.

"What do you expect me to do?" Aerith continued. "Just sit here and lose you all over again?! You can't ask that of me! I need you, Zack. I need _you. _Not this empty shell you're becoming. And he needs you." She swept her hand in the direction Cloud had run. "He's falling apart, too, and you're probably the only one that can fix him. Both of you are in this together so maybe it's time for you to start being honest with each other! You're _losing_ him, Zack, and if you don't start holding on he's going to slip away. So stop trying to do everything yourself and let people in!"

Aerith shoved him again before turning away and pressing her hands to her face in an effort to contain her tears. Zack stared at her shaking shoulders. "I love you, Zack," she whispered and it sounded so broken Zack flinched. "I love you so much, but I don't know you anymore. I'm so worried about you, but you keep pushing me away. You keep running and I'm not strong enough to keep up. I'm afraid that you don't trust me enough to let me in. Do you really think I'll stop loving you? Ever? Even if you don't love me anymore…"

With those heartbroken words Zack finally woke from his stupor. In one large stride, he crossed the small space between them and grabbed Aerith by the shoulders, whirling her around to face him. "Don't ever say that! I still love you. I never stopped loving you!"

She stared up at him with water-soaked, determined eyes. "Then why do you keep running? What are you so afraid of?"

Zack sucked in a watery breath that almost choked him, feeling tears push at his eyes and sobs creep up his throat. "I don't know," he whispered, looking away from her compassionate gaze. "I don't want you or Cloud to have to see all the pain. Relive it. If I can keep it from you, I will."

"Idiot!' Aerith cried, slapping his chest. "If you do that, then we'll lose you. The pain will consume you until there's nothing left." She hiccupped and reached up to cup his wet cheek. "When are you going to understand that I would rather face down all the agony and shadows in the world than lose you again?"

Zack snapped his gaze back to her, staring in disbelief. "What…?"

"When you left I started writing letters and I couldn't stop. I wrote and wrote and wrote, even though I never heard anything back, even though they told me you were dead. Then one day, I couldn't write anymore. It hurt too much. I forced myself to accept the fact that you were gone and I tried to move on." Aerith closed her eyes and rested her head against Zack's chest. With a quiet sigh, she wrapped her arms around him and clutched tightly to his sweater, holding him the same way she had Cloud. Zack stared straight ahead, feeling numb and heartbroken at the same time.

"But you came back," Aerith murmured. "You came back just like you said you would. Only, you didn't really. You've changed. You're different, broken." Zack squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the flow of his tears. Aerith continued softly—her own tears still slipping down her cheeks. "But that doesn't matter. I love this new you even more, pain and all. And I want to help you. But you've got to let me in."

A sob finally broke free as Zack clutched Aerith tighter against him. He couldn't do this anymore. It was too much and he was so incredibly tired.

"It was four years of torture," he mumbled, finally letting it out. He felt Aerith tense in his arms, but she didn't pull away. He kept talking, unable to stop. The dam had been shattered and now there was nothing to hold back the flood. "They locked us up and they experimented on us like rats. I can still hear Cloud screaming in my dreams. They hurt me, too. A lot. But not as much as him. Aerith, they tore him apart and there was nothing I could do but watch."

"Oh, Zack," Aerith whispered softly.

"I just watched as they cut him open, made him scream, filled him with mako and poison until he got so sick he couldn't move anymore. He was like a limp rag doll and they just kept on hurting him. Even though there was a chance he wouldn't come back. I didn't think he would. And he didn't. There's still so much of him missing. I don't know if he'll ever get it back. I'm so scared that he won't. I've already failed him once. I can't do it again, Aerith. I can't lose him again. I _can't." _

Aerith uttered quiet words of comfort that fell on deaf ears. Zack had re-entered the past. He could still see Cloud slumped in the glass container/coffin, pulsating mako eyes staring at nothing, set in porcelain skin—a perfect doll for Hojo to break and remold. "I broke us out. I don't remember all the details. It's blurry. And then we ran and ran and ran. For a whole year. And all I could think about was getting back to you. But Shinra just got closer and closer until I had to fight them. We were less than three miles away from Midgar. I could _see _it, Aerith. They attacked and I fought and they shot me so full of holes I looked like a pincushion." Zack shuddered at the memory of bullets piercing his flesh and cold rain mixed with warm blood sliding down his skin.

"I thought I'd died. I _should have _died. Who can survive be shot ten-odd times? But I woke up in Midgar and Cloud was awake, but he didn't remember. He didn't remember anything. And I couldn't remember where the church was. I looked and I looked but I couldn't find it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took so long." Another sob came, then another until they spilled from his lips in a merciless torrent.

_I'm such a mess, _he thought numbly as he shook and sobbed in Aerith's arms.

Aerith rubbed his back soothingly and he felt her pull him down until they were sitting in the dirt. "I've got you," Aerith murmured gently in his ear. He buried his face in her neck and pulled in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to stem the flow of tears and sound leaking from him. "I've got you. It's okay to let it out, Zack."

And he did. He cried until he didn't have the strength to cry anymore, until all the tears had poured out of him and he was left shaking and empty in their wake. And yet, he felt just a little lighter. He pulled back slowly and offered Aerith a wan smile.

"Thank you. I'm such a mess." It came out a pathetic croak but she still smiled, brushing his bangs away from his forehead.

"It's why I'm here, Zack. And I think we're all a little messed up so I don't blame you."

He leaned forward and kissed her temple, pulling her back into his arms so he could cradle her. "I'm sorry about today. I know something hurt you."

Aerith sighed. "A girl died from the disease. There was nothing I could do except braid her hair. One minute I was telling her about Midgar and the next she was dead in my arms. I guess we both know what it's like to be helpless."

"It's the worst kind of feeling," Zack muttered in agreement.

"Yeah." Aerith tilted her head back and smiled sadly at him. "It is."

"We're quite a pair, huh?" Zack chuckled bitterly, resting his cheek on top of her head.

"Misery loves company, right?" Aerith teased half-heartedly.

"Apparently."

Aerith sighed again and pushed away from Zack, rising unsteadily to her feet. Zack stared up at her questioningly as she placed her hands on her hips. "Now, go talk to him."

Zack swallowed nervously. "But…"

"No buts." Aerith held up a hand, halting his spluttered protests. "He needs you, Zack."

Zack knew she was right. He owed Cloud a big apology and more than a little explanation. It was the least he could do, after everything they'd suffered. "You're right." He climbed to his feet and rubbed at his red, bloodshot eyes. "I'll go find him."

"Good," Aerith replied with a firm nod.

He touched her cheek gently as he passed—silently thanking her again for not giving up on him, even when she probably should have. Her eyes said she understood and with one last faint smile, he left in search of his friend.

It was time for yet another heart to heart.

* * *

Aerith watched Zack's retreating back until he vanished, then glanced down at her trembling hands. The things he'd told her … it was worse than she'd imagined. Far worse. She couldn't fathom having to live through the horrors he had. Just hearing about them made her want to find Hojo and rip the filthy man limb from limb.

How could people do such horrible things to each other?

"Doesn't anyone sleep around here?" The dry voice startled her and she jumped, spinning to face the stairs. Surprise filled her features when she saw a bleary-eyed Reno stumble down them—the fourth person to exit the guest house that night.

"How much did you hear?" She demanded, repeating Zack's earlier question.

Reno shrugged. "Pretty much everything. You two are quite the couple."

"Why you…" Aerith growled, taking an angry step forward.

Reno raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, I can't help it if all your yelling woke me up. These walls are pretty thin and I'm a light sleeper."

Aerith stopped and let out a sharp breath of frustration. "Fine, but don't say anything to anyone."

Reno's sharp features softened slightly into a look she had only seen on rare occasions. "Relax, Flower Girl. I know a bit of what he's going through. Just because I wear a fancy suit and used to do Shinra's bidding doesn't mean I wasn't screwed over by them." He idly touched one of the blood red marks under his eye where scars were hidden beneath tattoo ink.

"Reno…" Aerith whispered, slightly stunned.

"Anyway," Reno ignored her sympathy," I'm going back to bed. I have to cart you all back to the mainland tomorrow so I want to sleep. Keep the noise to a minimum, okay? If I crash the helicopter because of exhaustion, it'll be your fault." Reno waved cheerfully and ambled back up the steps into the guest house, shutting the door behind him and leaving a flabbergasted Aerith alone in the courtyard.

Contemplating the bizarre conversation, Aerith wondered if he had come out to cheer her up.

A smile flickered briefly across her face as she shook her head in amazement.

* * *

He found Cloud seated at the base of a familiar stone wall staring up at the star-spattered sky. The wind had pushed the clouds toward the south and the moonlight on Cloud's skin made him seem several shades paler than normal. Zack bit his lip at the sight, suppressing memories of Cloud strapped to an examination table with incisions making harsh red lines across his porcelain skin. Telling Aerith had brought all those horrible images to the front of his mind to torment him, but he refused to give in. Those labs were _behind _him and they were going to stay there.

Zack approached Cloud slowly, stopping when he obscured the blond's vision of the stars. Cloud's eyes slid down to his face but he said nothing and Zack felt the weight of the silence against his back. He nudged a few stray pebbles with the toe of his boot, needing movement to release some of the nervous energy building in his muscles. At last the silence grew too strong and words tumbled from Zack's mouth under the pressure.

"Mind if I sit?"

Cloud shrugged—his shoulders scraping against the battered stone, knocking a few pebbles loose. Taking the gesture as a positive response, Zack slid down next to him and stared at his knees, still not brave enough to look his friend in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," he murmured after a quiet moment. "I shouldn't have freaked on you."

"It's okay," Cloud said, but Zack knew it wasn't.

"No, it's not." Zack sighed and ran a tired hand through his hair. "It's not okay. It hasn't been okay for a long time, has it?"

"I wouldn't know," Cloud replied and the bitterness in his voice was like a knife to the heart.

"You're right," Zack accepted the jab with guilty acceptance, certain that he deserved every ounce of anger Cloud might throw at him. "I haven't been a good friend. I've kept you in the dark when I shouldn't have."

"You're the only one who can fix this," Cloud muttered, unconsciously echoing Aerith's words. "You're the only who can tell me what's real."

The last part didn't make sense to Zack, but he refused to pry. "Yeah. But … I can't tell you everything. Not yet. I'm … I'm not ready for that, Cloud. You have to understand." He didn't know if Cloud was ready to hear about Nibelheim, either, but he kept the thought to himself.

"Then tell me what you can," Cloud insisted, finally turning to face him. There was a strange mix of determination and desperation on his face. "Surely there must be some good in there with all the darkness."

Zack smiled wistfully, remembering an icy mountain peak and Cloud's bright laughter. "There was. A lot of good. I just forget about it sometimes." He looked down at his hands with a weary sigh. "It gets hard to see."

Cloud hummed in soft agreement. "Maybe … it will do us both good to remember."

Zack leaned his head back against the wall. "Yeah."

"How did we meet?" Cloud asked, mirroring Zack's position.

"After a helicopter crash," Zack responded with a laugh, shaking his head.

Cloud's eyes widened in almost comical surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Zack laughed harder, reveling in how good it felt. "We were on a mission to Modeoheim and we came under fire. The helicopter crashed and we had to walk the rest of the way up the mountain. You were the only one that could keep up with me. We left the others in the dust."

Cloud froze, memories assaulting him. But they were strange and different, scattered like shards of glass across a floor after it shattered.

_"I'd like you to meet my new apprentice, Zack Fair." _

_"Yo! Don't fall too far behind. Well, hey, at least someone's keeping up." _

"Cloud?" Cloud blinked and found himself staring at a concerned Zack.

"I'm fine," he said automatically, unwilling to ruin the growing camaraderie by bringing up his mental problems, whatever they were.

Zack decided not to press the issue. It was better to leave that territory for another adventure. "Well anyway, we started talking about how small our hometowns were. And how they both had mako reactors." Zack smiled fondly. "A mako reactor outside Midgar means…."

"There's nothing else out there," Cloud whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A brief recollection of laughter trailed through his mind, giving him a warmth that usually seemed far away.

Zack stared at him in wonder, lips parted with visible surprise. "Yeah." He laughed suddenly, looking happier than Cloud had seen him in a long time. "You remember?"

Cloud nodded. "Parts of it. You said we were backwater experts."

Zack's laughter grew. "We were." He sighed happily. "We hit it off after that first mission, but then I didn't see you for awhile. The next time, my mentor, Angeal introduced us." Cloud held himself still to keep from gasping at the name. A man with dark hair and Zack's sword on his back flying towards him flashed through his mind, but thankfully Zack didn't notice the momentary glaze covering his eyes and continued with his story. _Their _story. "He wanted me to teach you some stuff. You had a lot of potential. And I mean a _lot_. You were amazing with a gun. One of the best shots I've ever seen. However, mentally you weren't really doing too hot."

Cloud frowned in contemplation. He remembered something about mental illness—that someone close to him had suffered from it, but he couldn't find a face or a name. "Why?"

"You were really withdrawn. Your squad and your drill sergeant didn't like you all that much. I guess you were too different." Zack shrugged, but his eyes grew dark. "They did a number on you."

Cloud closed his eyes, flinching as a cold dark locker and sneering faces drifted past the backs of his eyelids. "Yeah. I didn't like them."

"Anyway," Zack rushed them past the pain, determined not to dwell on it, "Angeal didn't want to waste your potential and neither did the SOLDIER program, so they decided it would be good for both of us if I mentored you. Our friendship developed from there."

_"Hey, Cloud! Looks like we're stuck together this time, huh? Well, here's the deal, in case you didn't already know, I'm Lieutenant Zack Fair, but if you call me 'sir' or 'lieutenant' or 'Fair' or any combination of those three, I'll hit you with my sword. It's 'Zack,' alright?" _

"You forced me out of my shell," Cloud murmured once he shook away the new memory.

Zack grinned at him. "Pretty much."

For once Cloud returned the smile, feeling lighter than he could ever remember being. "Tell me more, please."

Zack obliged and they talked as the night faded away. Zack retold every story he could think of and occasionally Cloud commented when a memory would break free from its prison and drift to the surface. Many things Zack spoke about he didn't recognize, but the few he did made all the difference.

At last, when the sun was waking from its slumber, Zack stopped, glancing in surprise at the lightening sky. "You know, we really need to get better about this whole sleeping thing."

Cloud chuckled. "Yeah."

Zack climbed to his feet, groaning at the aches and pains shooting through him from sitting so long in one position. "I think my foot's asleep."

Cloud rose with much more grace, shaking his head. "Sorry."

Zack waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. I think I'll live."

Cloud smiled faintly and then looked away, feeling some of the burden returning. "Thank you. For telling me all that."

Zack stepped forward and grasped Cloud's shoulders, turning the tired blond to face him. "Don't thank me. I'm just giving you back what was yours in the first place."

Cloud looked up at him and tried to smile again, but it fell short. Zack forced himself not to care. "We'll make you whole again, Cloud. I promise." Before Cloud could protest, Zack pulled him into a hug, ignoring the way he stiffened.

Cloud had never been a touchy-feely person. Ten feet away was often too close for the taciturn blond, but months in Zack's company had accustomed him to random hugs or pats on the back or an arm slung over his shoulder. It was the way Zack was. Now, however, much of those memories were gone and repressed fears from Hojo's labs made the blond twice as skittish as normal. Seeing him shy away from human contact hurt, but Zack was determined to get Cloud used to it again.

After a few moments, Cloud relaxed and awkwardly returned the hug. "Thanks."

"We're friends, right?" Zack threw his earlier question back at him with a soft smile.

"Always," Cloud mumbled in return.

When they stepped apart, Zack clasped Cloud's shoulders and offered him a bright smile. "I'm glad I'm getting you back. I missed you."

Cloud smiled too, but there was sadness in it. He felt happy about his returning memories, but he didn't share Zack's certainty about a full recovery. There were the other memories, the ones that didn't fit—or maybe they were the real ones?—that kept plaguing him. He refused to dampen Zack's enthusiasm, though. Those memories would stay locked in his head until he figured out the truth.

"Yeah. Me too." Zack shook his head at Cloud's almost monotone response and threw an arm over the blond's shoulders, steering him back toward the guest house.

"C'mon, we should get back. We have to leave soon."

Cloud nodded—happy to leave behind Wutai and its peoples' accusing stares.

Secretly, Zack was, too.

* * *

Surprisingly, Aerith stood waiting with Godo on the steps of the guest house. When she saw them and how much closer, lighter, they seemed to be, her face broke into a wide grin. Only Godo's presence kept her from running across the courtyard and sweeping them both up in a giant hug.

Zack frowned when he saw Godo and stepped away from Cloud. The two approached the steps side by side and bowed in respect for the king.

"Your Majesty?" Zack questioned when he straightened, wondering why the leader of the Wutai would pay them a visit.

"You are leaving today, correct?" Godo asked, folding his hands in front of him and pinning Zack with his hawk-like stare.

Zack swallowed and nodded. "Yes. If Reno's…"

"The chopper's ready to go." Reno's voice drifted from the doorway where he leaned against the frame looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Don't sneak up on people like that!" Zack scolded once he had recovered from his surprise.

Reno rolled his eyes. "Hey, I'm a Turk. How can you expect anything else?"

Godo eyed the redhead warily. "He is going with you?"

Zack nodded firmly. "Yes. He's no longer with Shinra."

Godo arched a blatantly disbelieving eyebrow but refrained from commenting. "I have something to ask of you."

"What?" Zack asked cautiously.

Godo sighed and removed his hands from the sleeves of his long robe, running his fingers through his stately beard in a rare display of anxiety. "May my daughter accompany you?"

"Yuffie?" Zack asked, stunned. "Why?'

Godo shook his head. "She needs to get away from here. It is for her own good as much as ours. Our people are sick and if I pass the disease on to her, the royal line will die with her. It will be good for her to see life beyond the island and escape from the burdens this city carries for awhile. She is a skilled fighter, in spite of her immature nature, and she will be a good asset to your group."

Zack glanced at Aerith and Cloud, uncertain. "Can I talk with my comrades first?"

Godo nodded. "Of course."

"We'll be right back." Zack motioned to Cloud and Aerith. The trio moved past Godo into the guest house, Reno trailing in their wake.

Inside it was unexpectedly quiet. Tifa stood in the living room area lacing up her boots and she glanced up at them with a dark frown. "Where have you two been?" She demanded, worry lurking beneath her biting tone.

Zack chuckled nervously. "Talking?"

"All night?" Tifa asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Zack replied weakly. Thankfully, Cloud nodded, backing him up.

"He was telling me things … about the past."

Tifa shot a surprised glance at Zack, but let the issue slide. "Fine. What time do we leave?"

Barrett suddenly poked his head out from the men's bedroom. "Where you two been?! How long till we're leavin'?"

Tifa rolled her eyes. "I just _asked _him that, Barrett."

Red maneuvered around Barrett into the main room. "Is the king here?"

Zack nodded, choosing to answer Red first. "Yeah. He wants us to take his daughter with him."

Cid appeared beside Barrett in the doorway with a snort of contempt. "First Turk-boy and now the princess? What is this, some kind of country club?"

Reno huffed at the "Turk-boy" comment, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Zack sighed. "No, but after everything Godo's done for us I think it's the least we can do. She can fight and I think she'll be able to hold her own on the trip."

"Well, if you think it is fine, then I do not care," Red flicked his tail idly. "As long as she is not as loud as you are, there will not be a problem."

"You agree with me and then insult me in the same breath?!" Zack cried incredulously.

Red's face morphed into his version of a smirk. "I was not insulting you, merely stating a fact."

"Right," Zack grumbled. "What about you guys?"

"It's fine with me," Aerith replied. "It will be nice to have another girl."

"Yeah, definitely," Tifa agreed.

"I agree," Cloud added quietly.

Cid snorted. "She'd better not be a brat."

Barrett muttered under his breath for a few seconds before providing an understandable reply. "Fine. Guess one more can't hurt."

Zack nodded and glanced at Reno. "What do you think?"

"You're askin' the Turk?!" Barrett exploded.

Zack fixed him with a hard stare. "Yes. He's part of the group now so he gets in on group discussions."

A colorful stream of curses left Barrett's mouth in a torrent until Tifa punched him the arm and ordered him to shut up, though she hardly looked pleased.

Reno, nonplussed, merely shrugged again. "I don't really care. It'll just be one more trip in the chopper." He paused, then added. "I agree with Red on the loud statement, though."

"Oh, like you're _so _quiet," Zack griped.

Reno smirked at him. "When I want to be."

Zack chose to ignore the teasing. "I'm going to tell Godo."

He brushed past Reno and out onto the port where Godo waited somewhat impatiently. The king looked up sharply when Zack emerged. "Well?" He demanded. "You have made your decision?"

Zack nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty, we'll be happy to have your daughter with us."

Godo smiled tightly. "Thank you, Zack Fair." He turned to leave, then paused. "My daughter said she showed you the black trees."

"Yeah." Zack shivered, remembering the dying trees oozing viscous black liquid. "They were creepy."

Godo chuckled grimly. "I believe that is putting it mildly. However, we are fairly certain it is a strain of the disease that is infecting the people."

Zack's eyes widened. "W-wait, you think it's killing the plants now, too? You're joking, right?"

Godo's expression clearly said he was anything but joking. "No. I was hoping that you could keep an eye out for anything on the disease during your travels. I believe Shinra has something to do with all this."

Zack pressed his lips together in a grim line. "They usually do. But we'll definitely be on the lookout."

"Thank you," Godo said, inclining his head respectfully. "I wish you the best of luck."

Zack bowed one last time. "You, too. Stay alive. We'll find a cure."

Godo's lip curled in a tired smile. "We shall try, Zack Fair. We shall try."

"Good," Zack returned the smile, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he got to see the king alive. "Could you please send Yuffie to the big hill outside the village. The chopper's parked out there."

"Very well." Godo turned and left. Neither man said good-bye. They had spoken the word too many times already.

* * *

"I can't believe my old man is sending me away with you people! Not that you aren't totally awesome and all, but I'm needed here!" Yuffie crossed her arms and pouted at the extremely exasperated members of AVALANCHE. Or what remained of them. Reno had already ferried Barrett and Aerith back to the mainland and was in the process of herding Tifa, Cloud, and Red onto the helicopter.

Yuffie's longwinded rant had continued for the better part of fifteen minutes, circling back to the fact that her father needed her in Wutai. As much as he understood her sentiment, Zack was about ready to knock her unconscious, Cid looked a few small steps away from exploding, and even Reno's shoulders were tense.

"Look, we get it. Just get on the frickin' chopper!" Cid yelled, snapping his ever-present toothpick clean in half.

"Your father wanted you to go," Red grit out, close to losing his famous patience. "Therefore, you should respect his wishes."

"My old man's senile!" Yuffie cried.

"Yuffie…" Zack began, but Tifa marched right up to the girl and grabbed her arm.

"Get on the chopper or I'll make you," she growled.

"Oh yeah? I am the Single White Rose of Wutai! You can't make me do anything. And you don't understand the situation here. My old man needs me, lady." Yuffie tried to yank her arm away, but Tifa held firm.

"I have a mag rod if anyone wants to use it," Reno volunteered from his seat in the open door of the helicopter.

Tifa sighed and gave Yuffie a hard shake. "Look, I know you want to stay and help. I know you want to do everything you can for your village. But maybe this _is _the best you can do. There is nothing for you here but death. Maybe there's a cure out there. You'll never know until you go out and find it."

Yuffie froze, startled. Something shifted in her eyes and surrender flashed briefly as realization created a growing light of determination. Then, a rapid grin overtook her face. "Hey, I've never thought about it that way! You're a genius, lady."

"It's Tifa," Tifa huffed, but went ignored.

"That's what I'll do! I'll go out and find a cure. You guys can help. And then I'll bring it back and my old man will see things my way. It's a foolproof plan! What are we waiting for, guys, let's go!"

Reno scrambled out of the way as Yuffie practically vaulted into the helicopter. "Hey! Be careful!" He cried in outrage, brushing dirt off his rumpled suit jacket. The rest of AVALANCHE stared in utter bafflement.

"I think I missed something," Cloud whispered.

"That makes two of us," Tifa whispered back.

In the helicopter, Yuffie plunked herself down in a seat and turned to regard Reno. "Relax, I wasn't going to hit you," she scoffed, then froze again. "Wait … we're flying across the ocean in this thing, right? Ugh, I don't do so well with air travel. Or any kind of motion, really."

"Motion sickness, just great," Cid grumbled, spitting out his ruined toothpick.

"I'll give you a paper bag," Reno offered. "It can't be worse than the first time Elena rode in one."

He was wrong, as they would all soon discover.

Very wrong.

* * *

**Coming up next--** interlude. golden saucers and pink dresses.


	31. Interlude: Second First Date

**Hello, dear readers! I apologize for it being so long. And I don't even have a decent excuse this time, besides this little condition I have called procrastination syndrome. I plan to get treatment for it ... someday. But, I finally got my butt in gear and wrote you guys some fluff! I figured everyone needed something happy after the emotional roller coaster that was Wutai.**

**Thank you to everyone who has left such amazing reviews, and the new readers trickling in. You guys always amaze me. :) **

**IMPORTANT: I have learned that Vincent is incredibly popular. Every single chapter I have at least one person asking if Vincent's going to be in the story. Since I don't think it will really spoil anything, I will say that, yes, Vinnie will be making an appearance. No worries. He's just taking his sweet time. Expect him in a just a few more chapters with all his vampire-like awesomeness. :) **

**Well, I'll shut up now and just let you read. Yeah. **

* * *

"I'm not sure about this." Aerith nervously ran her hands over the pink material hugging her slender frame. The smooth fabric bunched slightly beneath the pressure of her fingers, creating small ripples down the length of the form-fitting dress. The garment was an awkward change from her usual loose shirts and flowing skirts. It felt too tight in all the wrong places, and the brown jacket, much lighter than her normal one, was small and a little restricting. It was a strange ensemble—a more flirtatious version of her regular attire—and staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror, the flower girl wasn't entirely sure what to think.

"Relax," Tifa assured her from her comfortable position on one of the room's two double beds. "You look great."

Yuffie, in a contrast to Tifa, was a display of movement, bouncing lightly up and down on the other bed. She paused her repetitive actions to glance at Aerith with a bright grin. "Yeah, Teef's right, you look totally awesome. I mean, a little too _pink_ for my tastes … but still awesome!" She shot the amused flower girl an enthusiastic thumbs up before returning to her bouncing, pulling one of her smaller shuriken from her hostler so she could spin it on her fingers.

Tifa shot her a sideways scowl of annoyance. The teenage ninja _never _sat still, and the constant movement was often grating on the nerves. "It's Tifa," she corrected for the heck of it, even though Yuffie seemed to be deaf when it came to things like that.

"Whatever you say, Teef." Case in point.

Rolling her eyes, Tifa sat up and turned her attention to Aerith. "Don't worry about it. Zack will love it." She smiled at the mental picture of Zack's jaw hitting the floor. It was fun to see the ex-SOLDIER completely blown off his feet by a petite flower girl. The man was head-over-heels in love. Aerith's smile was enough to make him swoon. Ironically, Aerith herself was the only one not completely aware of this.

"Maybe," Aerith did an experimental twirl, and nearly tripped over herself when the dress didn't billow out in a fan the way her skirts did. Regaining her balance and gallantly ignoring Yuffie's giggles, she flung her long braid back over her shoulder, and glanced at an amused Tifa, wondering how the other woman could be so relaxed. "Do we even have time for this kind of thing?"

Tifa shrugged casually. "Who knows? It doesn't really matter. This is a good opportunity, you should make the most of it."

"I know, I know." Aerith consciously kept herself from wringing her hands in her typical nervous gesture. Instead, she focused her energy on securing Zack's old ribbon in her hair. "But I feel kind of weird going out on a date when we're still highly wanted fugitives on the run from Shinra. Doesn't this kind of thing belong in a novel?"

"Aww, c'mon, Aerith, you worry too much!" Yuffie jumped in before Tifa even opened her mouth. "You deserve to have some fun, right? I mean, from what I hear, you guys have been through hell this past month, so you've definitely earned this. Go enjoy yourself. One night isn't gonna kill ya!" Yuffie thumped the bed for emphasis, and nodded as though she had just imparted very sage advice.

Tifa sighed, and the sound was trapped somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "I have to admit, Yuffie's right on this one, Aerith. Go have some fun. You've definitely earned it. We all have."

Bolstered by her friends' varying levels of enthusiasm, Aerith gave a firm nod of agreement. "You're right." She pivoted to face the mirror again, and stared down her reflection with a bright smile. "A date it is."

* * *

"I'm not sure about this." Zack fingered the sleeves of his dress shirt, absently pushing them up toward his elbows. Wearing long sleeves again was a surprisingly strange experience. After putting on the shirt, he had realized with some shock that he hadn't worn anything with sleeves in close to six years. Even his casual attire back in Shinra tended to be short sleeves or no sleeves, styled not to restrict movement. Swinging a giant sword around required a lot of effort, and long sleeves only hindered it. Now, looking at himself in the mirror, he felt like a peacock—all dressed up for people to gawk at.

Behind him, Cloud let out a sharp, exasperated sigh. "Weren't you the one that asked her out?" the blond pointed out helpfully. It only served to set Zack's teeth on edge.

"Yes, but that's not the point! Our first, and only, real date was a stroll through a playground in the slums. This is much more…" he paused, wracking his brain for a suitable adjective. "…elaborate."

Cloud remained unimpressed. "But didn't you also say that you wanted to take Aerith on a 'real'date?" He wasn't completely sure what the qualifications were for a "real" date, but Zack had been adamant about it earlier, and he wasn't about to let his friend back down now. Aerith wouldn't be able to handle the disappointment.

"Yeah… but…" Zack floundered, taking a minute to be eternally thankful that Barrett and Cid had gone off in search of a bar, and were therefore not around to watch him lose it over a _date. _Unfortunately, this reminded him that said date was in fifteen minutes, and he found himself going rapidly back to panicking. "… I just … I have no idea how to … _do _this kind of thing." He gestured wildly for emphasis, and got a raised eyebrow in return.

Cloud stared at him with a look that clearly said 'well, what am _I_ supposed to do about it?' Huffing in frustration, the ex-SOLDIER turned back to the mirror with a dismissive wave, realizing that his friend was more clueless than he was when it came to anything in the "romance" category of life. Glancing at Cloud through the protective shield the glass provided, he allowed a confession to slide past his defenses. "I'm kind of afraid I'm going to screw this up. Like … royally."

To his surprise, Cloud looked amused. "Zack," the blond moved to stand behind his

shoulder, getting a clear view of his face in the mirror, "she waited for you for _five years_. I don't think messing up a date will upset her."

Zack thought about that for a long moment, then smiled soft and warm. "Yeah. I guess you're right." His worry was still there, hidden away deep inside, because he had hurt her lately, more than he'd ever meant to, but it had diminished with Cloud's reassuring words.

The lock on the door clicked suddenly, and the knob turned. Zack stiffened, praying silently to whoever might listen that it _wasn't _Barrett or Cid. The door swung open, and Reno slid inside, balancing a bag full of something and gripping the key between his teeth. He kicked the door shut with a booted foot, then looked up and froze as soon as his eyes landed on Zack. The blue orbs widened a little, taking in his appearance swiftly, before Reno restarted himself, and carefully laid the bag and key down on the bed.

Zack held his breath, waiting in suspended tension for the laughter. Instead, Reno exhibited mild signs of shock. "You … look nice," the Turk said at last, sounding slightly amazed.

"…thanks," Zack replied with equal caution.

"Did I … miss something?" Reno asked, glancing back and forth between Zack and Cloud. "Where's the party?"

"I'm going on a date," Zack admitted reluctantly, and waited for the laughter again. Again, Reno surprised him by merely raising his eyebrows—at least, Zack thought that was what he did; it was hard to tell with the goggles sitting on his forehead.

"Oh, with Flower Girl?" A smile finally snuck its way onto Reno's face, and to Zack's relief it was only slightly teasing.

"Yeah." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He was supposed to pick up Aerith in exactly two minutes and thirty seconds. "And I'm running late. Bye guys!" He scrambled past Cloud, and nearly tore the door open in his haste to escape.

As he rushed down the hall at a clipped walk, Reno's voice chased him. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Fair!"

Zack rolled his eyes and walked faster. At least Reno hadn't openly laughed at him. That was a small blessing.

* * *

When Aerith opened the door, Zack's jaw hit the floor with a solid 'thud.' The flower girl looked stunning. The pink dress was simple, but possessed a subtle air of elegance, and the silver bracelets on his wrists glittered brightly in the dim light of the hall. Her eyes sparkled, accented by small hints of makeup. Even the faded ribbon her hair looked more vibrant.

"Wow," Zack breathed in unabashed awe, feeling suddenly self-conscious and incredibly inadequate.

Aerith smiled skeptically. "Really?" She glanced down at herself with a critical eye, running her hands nervously down her dress again.

Zack reached out and caught her fluttering appendages, feeling the cool metal of the bracelets contrast pleasantly with the warmth of her skin. "You look beautiful," he assured. She beamed at him, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

_Gaia, _he'd forgotten how incredible her smile was.

"You don't look too shabby either." She eyed his dress shirt and pants, then glanced up at his hair and shook her head, a teasing smile capturing her lips. "Your hair still looks like a cockatoo, though."

"Hey!" Zack squawked indignantly, but laughter still bubbled in his throat, and spilled past his lips—free and uncontrollable.

"It's okay." Aerith reached up, and brushed her fingers through it. "I love it."

He felt his cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, and coughed in his hand to hide how flustered she always managed to make him. A high-pitched giggle from partly-open door only heightened his embarrassment. Yuffie and Tifa were definitely enjoying the show. "Want to get out of here?"

Glancing back at the door with a quiet frown, Aerith nodded. "Definitely."

Zack extended his arm, and she looped hers through it. He quietly reveled at the way she fit at his side—like she was meant to be there. His practical voice scoffed at him, wondering how one girl could turn him from a hardened SOLDIER into a puddle of helpless goo so easily. He shushed the voice firmly. Tonight, he was content to merely be a boy head-over-heels in love for a girl.

Back in the room, Yuffie heaved a dramatic sigh. "They are so cute together!"

Tifa nodded. Every time Zack looked at Aerith she could see the love settled in the background of his eyes. It both warmed her heart and made it ache. Deep down inside her, in a place she rarely acknowledge and never visited, a part of her wished Cloud would look at her like that. Thinking about Cloud, an idea drifted to the surface of her mind, and selfishly demanded her attention. She studied it carefully, feeling young and nervous. It was spontaneous and a little foolish—all the things she wasn't—but enticing.

Coming to a sudden decision, she rose from the bed and rummaged around her in pack for suitable attire. Yuffie watched with curiosity as she pulled a simple blue sweater and dark pants from the bag, and began to change.

"What'cha doin', Teef?" The teenager asked.

Tifa raked her fingers through her hair, debating what to do with the thick mop. After a minute, she swept it up into a bun much neater than her usual ones, carefully arranging her bangs to frame her face. "Going out," she answered distractedly.

"Ooh, can I come!"

"No, Yuffie. It's just me and good friend."

"So it's a date!"

Tifa stubbornly ignored the blush that flooded her cheeks. "No it isn't," she answered defensively, managing to keep the quiver from her voice. And that was the truth. It wasn't a date, and probably never would be. Not now, because Cloud was still preoccupied solving the mysteries within himself, and not later, because once Cloud solved those mysteries he would realize just how horrible she had been to him in the past, and probably hate her. No, tonight all she wanted to do was get Cloud to smile at least once.

"Riight." Yuffie rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed. "Well, what am I supposed to do?"

Tifa shrugged, smiling faintly at the other girl. "Go out. Ride the rides. Have fun."

"Fine," Yuffie pouted. "But I expect details when I get back!" She pointed a demanding finger at Tifa, prompting the other woman to offer a placating nod. Satisfied, the ninja hopped off the bed and exited the room with a cheerful wave. "Have fun on your date!"

"It's not a date," Tifa grumbled to thin air. Without looking in the mirror, she left in search of Cloud.

It wasn't a date, but that little, traitorous part of her wished it _was.

* * *

_

To say Cloud was shocked when he opened the door and found Tifa smiling at him would be more than a small understatement. At first, he wasn't sure she was here to see him. All the smiles she'd shown him had been sad, haunted by some part of that past he couldn't find, but this one was bright, almost radiant, and it knocked the breath from his lungs like a punch.

She was … beautiful.

He'd rarely seen her without dirt on her cheeks, war in her fists, and fire in her eyes. She dressed plain clothes, and usually pulled her hair up into a messy bun in the mornings. The only jewelry she ever wore were two tear-shaped earrings, and the strength in her stance outweighed most men. But now she was wearing blue instead of brown and black, her hair looked neat, and her posture radiated nervousness. With a start, Cloud realized he was looking at the woman normally hidden behind the warrior.

"Tifa?" He murmured, floored.

Tifa grinned and snagged his wrist faster than he could blink. "C'mon, we're going out."

"We are?" He was confused and horribly off-balance. Was this what women usually did to men?

"Yes," Tifa nodded, and tugged him away from the door. "I'm not letting you spend the night sulking in a hotel room."

He wanted to state that he was hardly _sulking, _but somehow that didn't seem to be the point. He didn't understand this erratic behavior, but he found himself wanting to spend time with her—get to know this woman who was a part of his past. Or maybe this had nothing to do with the past at all, but the way her earrings danced in the light, and her smile made her eyes glow.

"Okay," he agreed, surprising himself, and her, at how easily the word left his mouth.

Tifa blinked slowly at him for a moment, as though she hadn't expected him to tag along. Then, something in her shrugged and moved on, and she pulled at him again, barely giving him time to shut the door. "Good, let's go explore. I hear they have an amazing Ferris Wheel here."

He had no clue what a Ferris Wheel was, but right then, it didn't matter. For reasons he couldn't define, he was content just being next to Tifa.

* * *

Aerith was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. "And then … you tried to fight the king instead of the Evil Dragon! What kind of gallant hero are you?"

Zack huffed, highly embarrassed over his less-than-stellar performance in the Golden Saucer's odd, and dorky, play. "I'm a fighter, not an actor!"

Aerith clutched his arm, trying to draw air into her gasping lungs. "Yeah, but even you should know that the prince is supposed to save the princess instead of charging at the king. Haven't you ever read a fairy tale? You're a horrible prince charming."

Zack sighed, pretending to be hurt. Secretly, he didn't care in the slightest that he'd been laughed and booed off the stage. Aerith was laughing again, and that was worth all the humiliation in the world. "Gee, thanks. I feel so loved." He slapped a dramatic hand to his chest and shot Aerith his best puppy-dog look.

Aerith tried to remain unaffected, but Zack caught her eyes softening ever so slightly. He smiled to let her know that the teasing only made his heart glow, and nudged her gently in the side. "Besides, you don't need a prince charming. You took out the Evil Dragon on your own. In one hit!" He mimicked the punch she'd aimed at the Evil Dragon King's face, and was pleased to see her blushing. "Now, I know not to get on your bad side." There was a little more than teasing in the words. An apology lurked there, for Wutai, and all the times he hadn't been there when she needed him.

A little of the light left her eyes suddenly, replaced by something deep, and just as breathtaking. Uncertainly, Zack thought it might just be love. "You could never get on my bad side." And there, he heard forgiveness—always forgiveness.

"I hurt you," he blurted, and stopped pretending they were talking about the play anymore.

Aerith stopped walking, letting the crowd drift around them. When he looked down at her, he saw all the things that made her beautiful—determination, strength, a fighter wrapped in delicate flower petals. "That's what happens, Zack. Yes, you hurt me. And you'll do it again. And someday, I'll hurt you, too. But it doesn't matter." Her hand was warm when she laid it on his arm. "I'll always forgive you. And you'll always forgive me. That's what love's about."

He realized, in that moment, that he wasn't going to lose her. She was the force that drove him forward, the hands that healed his wounds, and the love that knit his tattered soul back together. She had always been there, since that day when he blinked his eyes open and thought an angel was looking down at him, and she always would be.

"I love you," he said, and it came from the deepest part of his soul. He wanted her to hear it, wanted her to know for certain that every time he left, he would come back again—a little bruised, and battered, but still there, always.

Her eyes told him she already knew. "I love you, too." She paused, and something in her posture shifted in the direction of light again. "Even if you are a terrible prince charming."

He laughed, and the sound was full of relief. Impulsively, he reached out and caught her up in his arms. She gasped, then giggled, when he spun her in a wide circle. Setting her back on her feet, he ran his fingers through her hair. It felt good to touch her without the usual barrier of gloves. "I know, I'm sorry. I am an epic failure when it comes to the whole saving-damsels-in-distress business."

"You don't even have a horse," Aerith whined with dancing eyes.

"Hey, at least I have a sword," he protested, needing to keep a little of his dignity.

Aerith laughed, affectionate and full. "True." She linked their arms together. "Well, my fair prince, where shall we go now?"

"It is your choice, dear princess," he intoned, trying to keep a straight face.

"Hmm…" Aerith glanced around at the colorful displays, then up. "Let's ride on that." She pointed to a gondola gliding past overhead. Zack followed her finger, then glanced back at her in surprise.

"Are you sure? It's pretty high."

"I'm sure," Aerith replied without any hesitation. "You'll be with me."

Awed by her trust in him, Zack slid his fingers through hers, and pulled her forward. "Alright, then. Gondolas, it is!"

* * *

"I don't know…." Cloud stared up at the Ferris Wheel with trepidation. "It's … high." When he had imagined a Ferris Wheel in his mind, he hadn't pictured an actual giant wheel. The whole contraption seemed a little … childish. Who paid money to ride around in a big circle?

Tifa shot him a sideways look of surprise. "You're scared of heights?"

"No," he said a little defensively. She arched an eyebrow and he felt himself deflate. "Maybe … a little."

"It'll be fine," she assured, and tugged him towards the ticket counter. "Trust me."

And he did, to his surprise. There was something infectious about her—a pull he had felt from the moment he met her. Maybe it had to do with his past, or maybe it was just her. Either way, he found it easy to be close to her, and so he let her drag him forward, remaining silent while she purchased two tickets to the Ferris Wheel. Being up so high felt like a small price to pay to see her eyes glow like they had in the hotel.

The seat was hard plastic against his back, and the bar chilled him through his sweater, but he swallowed down the trapped feeling, reminding himself that this was for Tifa. And somehow, that was enough. The Ferris Wheel started, and the seat swayed precariously, making his stomach roil in protest. Unexpectedly, Tifa grabbed his arm tightly and gasped as they traveled slowly upwards.

"Are you okay?" Cloud ventured, noticing how wide her wine-tinted eyes were.

"I'm a little scared of heights, too," she admitted slowly. The blush on her cheeks made her look younger.

Cloud frowned, puzzled and a little surprised. A part of him had believed that Tifa Lockhart wasn't scared of anything. But, of course, that was silly. Everyone was scared of something, even people like Zack. So, if she was scared of heights, then… "Why did you want to ride this?"

She smiled, and it was only a little sad. "For that." He followed her gaze and felt awe flood through him. The Golden Saucer sprawled out below them in a dazzling maze of lights. It glowed with a thousand different colors—mesmerizing, hypnotizing, and spectacular. It looked like a something he always thought would be in fairytales—a fairy kingdom, or something along that vein.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Tifa whispered, for even the silence had become reverent.

"Yeah," Cloud breathed.

"After all the pain, and death, and destruction, I wanted to see something beautiful," Tifa continued, and the shadows returned briefly to her gaze, reflected behind the radiance of the lights. "I haven't seen anything like this in a long time."

He nodded in silent agreement, racking his broken memory for a time he had ever seen something this beautiful. Nothing presented itself. He looked at her again and found himself lingering, entranced by the way the lights cast shadows on her face. So many questions danced through his mind. Who was she? What was Cloud Strife to her? What had she been to Cloud Strife? Did she know how amazing she was?

Suddenly a loud boom wrenched him from his contemplation, and he nearly fell out of the seat in shock. Tifa's calloused fingers curled around his arm again. For once he welcomed her touch, instead of shying away from it. "

Fireworks!" she cried, pointing to the left. He looked and was nearly blinded by a burst of color and light.

Blinking away the afterimages, the blond focused again on the exploding colors. Once his eyes had adjusted, he realized how dazzling they were. They burst forth with fanfare, then faded slowly away, drifting back down toward the ground in columns of sparkling dust.

"I haven't seen fireworks in forever," Tifa sighed happily. "They're great, huh?"

"They're incredible," he agreed softly, wishing he could remember if he had seen fireworks before. It was amazing the things a mind could forget—so much that when he looked in the mirror, a stranger stared back at him.

Tifa glanced at him, and something about the way she sat was hard to define. She seemed hesitant. "Cloud, I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here."

"What?" Worry spiked sharply through him, but before she could answer, the Ferris Wheel glided to a stop, and a man in an outlandish outfit ushered them off the ride.

They found themselves out in the street staring at each other with increasing awkwardness. Tifa looked as though she wanted to kick herself, and the wall that had grown between them was stifling.

"Tifa?" Cloud tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice, but the emotion unintentionally packed into her name made him wince.

Tifa sighed, brushing some of her bangs out of her dark eyes. "Sorry, that came out wrong." Her face twisted into a grimace. "It figures I would screw this up." She looked away and then spoke so fast he almost didn't catch the words. "I wanted to make you smile!"

He made a quiet sound of astonishment, but she still refused to look at him. "I've never seen you smile."

"Tifa…." He trailed off, unable to get past her name.

And then, it happened. Something within him pulled at his lips, bringing them upwards. It was only a faint twitch, little more than a fraction of what it could be, but Tifa still saw it, and her eyes lit up.

"You're not just doing that for me, are you?" She put her hands on her hips with a skeptical frown undermined by her twinkling eyes. She looked so funny, and wonderful, that laughter, breathy and soft, spilled from him.

Her lips parted in surprise at the almost-nonexistent sound. He felt inadequate for a moment, wishing he had the strength to give her more than a quiet chuckle, but then she _grinned, _and completely blindsided him. The way she was looking at him, he might as well have been on the ground rolling with laughter.

"I like the way you laugh," she told him sincerely. His cheeks promptly flamed red, followed by hers as she realized exactly what she had said.

"Thank you," he replied with only a faint stutter.

"You're welcome." She intertwined their fingers with another bright smile, and tugged him in a random direction. He followed without resistance, watching the colored lights reflect in her dark hair, feeling ungrounded, confused, and awed.

Did she know what she was doing to him?

* * *

"This is amazing," Aerith murmured, pressing close to the window so she could see the fireworks better. "They look like flowers in the sky."

Zack wrapped an arm around her, resting his chin on top of her head gently. "Yeah. They kinda do. I've never thought about it like that."

Aerith giggled. "This is incredible!"

"Not scary?" Zack teased, thinking of a playground and an angel in a blue dress who turned out to be so much more than first appearances conveyed.

"Not scary," Aerith responded, leaning back into him.

"Aerith…" Zack didn't give himself time to think too much on what he was about to say, knowing if he let it sit inside him for too long he would take off running toward the hills. "Marry me?"

Aerith whirled around so fast, she cracked her forehead against his chin. They fell apart, rubbing the tender spots caused by the mishap. "What?" Aerith exclaimed after a moment of tense silence.

Zack felt about two inches tall, because this wasn't exactly how he had pictured it going. "Uhh … will you marry me?"

"Marry you?" Aerith repeated, looking as though he had spoken gibberish, or just asked her to do something crazy, like commit the rest of her life to him.

Oh wait, he had.

"Yeah," he babbled, feeling all his confidence dive into a tailspin. "Not now of course. Later. When all this is over. It would be stupid to get married now. You know what? I don't even have a ring. And I kinda forget to get down on one knee. That's what you're supposed to do, right? Heh. Just forget about it, it's stupid. I mean, marrying you isn't stupid! Asking you now is. I really do want to marry you … eventually. I just … it kind of … you know what? I'm going to shut up now." He clamped his mouth shut, cutting off the torrent of words. Aerith watched him with a bemused smile on her face, and he braced himself for the rejection.

"That was probably the worst proposal in the history of this Planet," she said at last without any definable emotion. Zack cringed. Yep, he had screwed this up. Royally. Just like he'd thought he would. To his shock, Aerith leaned across the seat with a tender smile. "But, it came from the best guy I know, and that's what matters. Of course I'll marry you, Zack." She paused for a quiet giggle. "Later."

Now it was Zack's turn to gape. He stared at her as though she had just agreed to commit the rest of her life to him. Oh wait … she had. "Really?"

Aerith nodded patiently. "Really. There's no one I'd rather spend my life with, Zack. I didn't wait for you for five years because I kind of liked you."

A very long pause followed. Zack blinked slowly, feeling his mind start to shut down. He shot her a suspicious look, wondering if she was joking, or if he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming. He hadn't just _proposed, _right? There was no way he would do something crazy like that. And, if he actually _had, _she just _accepted? _Just like that? No, he'd fallen asleep somehow. Even if that seemed impossible, considering the fireworks.

"_Really_?" He asked again, just to be absolutely certain.

Aerith laughed, brushing her fingers across his cheek. "_Really." _

A smile nearly spilt Zack's face in two. Aerith was going to marry him. _Wow. _He'd managed to completely blindside himself with this, but in the best way.

Aerith was going to marry him … that was every dream come true.

With a happy sigh, he closed the rest of the distance between them, and rested his forehead against hers. They were so close their breaths intertwined, and that still wasn't close enough.

"Okay, then." He laughed breathlessly.

"You're such a goof," she said with great affection, and kissed him.

* * *

**Coming up next--**fake deaths and makeovers.


	32. XXIX: This Tangled Web

**I am absolutely floored by the number of new readers! A *huge* thank you to writing gamer who has been going through and reviewing every _single_ chapter. I don't deserve such awesome readers. **

**After so much angsty talking, it's time for some good old action! **

**Please review and feed my ever-growing addiction. I can't believe we're pushing 500. Just ... wow. **

* * *

The black gloves slid onto his hands easily, whispering faintly against his skin then creaking in quiet protest as he flexed his fingers. The feel of leather encasing his fingers was foreign, but he brushed it carelessly aside. It was a minor annoyance, nothing more. The door to his office swished open behind him, and he listened silently to the light, familiar sound of rugged combat boots crossing the expensive carpet.

"Elena," he murmured without turning around, feeling her presence only a few feet away. He didn't face her. There were still a few things that needed his attention. First, he placed several items needed for tonight into his pockets, then plucked the black suit jacket from its resting place across the back of his chair and shrugged it onto his shoulders. Subtle pain pulled insistently at his muscles, but was ignored in the same way the gloves had been. True, it was a little more than a minor annoyance but he refused to cave into it. He had been battling it for so long now it had a slim chance of victory over him.

"Sir." He wondered if he had imagined the trace of surprise in Elena's voice. Probably. Reacting openly to seeing him in black was highly unprofessional. Adjusting his tie, the vice president finally turned and found his bodyguard as impassive as always.

"Ready, Elena?" he asked with an arched eyebrow. It was a rhetorical question. Silly, really, but he still felt the illogical need.

She was gracious enough to nod at him, deliberately checking her handgun and somehow forcing his lips to twitch upward against his will. "Yes, sir." She still looked a little miffed at him, but knew better than to continue voicing her concerns. Elena was good at choosing her battles. It was one of the things he respected about her.

He bridged the gap between them, but paused as the foolish urge to touch her shoulder rose up within him so strongly that his hand was halfway there before he realized what he was doing and quickly retracted it. Elena did not need comfort, and he was not weak enough to give it even if she did. Honestly, these urges and feelings were beginning to irritate him.

"Let's go, then," he continued, ignoring his almost mishap. He strode past her out the door, telling himself he was simply anxious to get the mission over with. He refused to admit to himself that the real reason was escape from the questions in Elena's hazel eyes. She fell in behind him, footsteps beating out almost the same quiet rhythm as his own. The tiny, weak part of him that he usually never acknowledged was comforted by her presence at his shoulder.

The hallways around them were filled with shadows kept feebly at bay by dim lights. Everyone else was asleep or had packed up for the night, fleeing to the safety of their almost nonexistent lives. The pair stuck to the shadows, avoiding the few guards roaming the halls. The guards thought that Rufus Shinra had retired for the day, retreating to his father's mansion. His father's mansion. His prison. There were no other words to describe it. He hated that gilded cage and if he didn't have such a pressing need to keep up appearances he would sleep on the couch in his office, just to rub it in the Old Man's face.

The elevator rose before them and Rufus slid his keycard, leaning forward to muffle the affirmative beep it gave as the light flashed green. One of the guards down the hall cocked his head briefly, then shrugged and continued on his way. Not for the first time in his life, Rufus was thankful his father had hired idiots for his security staff. Elena slid past him into the elevator, purposefully blocking the camera's view. They moved in tandem, like this was a well rehearsed dance. Perhaps that was a sign they had spent far too much time in each other's company. As Elena keyed in the floor for the lab, Rufus stayed out of the camera's view as much as humanly possible, and took advantage of the brief pause to check his handgun.

Elena glanced up at the click that echoed through the small space. "It's been a while since I've used one of these." Rufus commented without really meaning to, hating the weak admission the second it left his lips. "I prefer my shotgun." He tacked it on a little too quickly to remain emotionless and aloof, and wanted to smack himself. Why should her opinion of his skills matter? She shouldn't see reason to doubt him. He'd recently shot AVALANCHE out of the sky, after all.

"Well, sir, it's a little difficult to hide a shotgun." He almost swore she was teasing him, but maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him again, encouraged by the strange feelings stirring in his chest.

"True," he replied as he flicked the safety back on and slid his handgun into the holster concealed beneath his black jacket. "It's more efficient, though."

This time he caught Elena's tiny smirk out of the corner of his eye. "If you want to blow holes in things, sir."

So she _was _teasing him. And for the life of him he couldn't explain why he felt slight elation at that knowledge. "Of course. Isn't blowing holes in things the most efficient way to resolve a conflict?" He threw back, using his knowledge of her somewhat violent history as leverage.

He was rewarded with a subtle flush of her cheeks, barely there but he was looking close enough to catch it. "Perhaps, sir." She paused for an instant, to let a smirk grow. "Definitely when it comes to Reno, though."

He actually chuckled at the joke, remembering when Tseng had come to his office attempting to explain why Elena had shot Reno in the leg and that the redhead would be out of commission for at least a few weeks. "Yes," he agreed smoothly. He appreciated her joke and the way the atmosphere was beginning to lighten, but his pride refused to let him say such a thing to her. "Definitely when it comes to Reno."

The elevator slid to a smooth stop on the 66th floor, opening to a quiet hallway—the peace only undermined by still-broken doors and scuff marks all over the normally polished floors. Leftover signs of Zack Fair's rage that the president hadn't bother to fix. Rufus hardly minded. It made their job a little easier.

Elena planted herself in front of him as they left the relative safety of the elevator behind. If he had been anyone else, he would have rolled his eyes at her blatantly protective behavior, but he was Rufus Shinra, and Rufus Shinra _never_ rolled his eyes, even in private, so he settled for a slightly frustrated sigh. Elena didn't acknowledge him—too busy bypassing the security system via a panel on the wall. Feeling a bit useless, he did a brief visual sweep of the area, searching the shadows for any surprises Hojo may have left behind.

Disconcertingly, there was nothing.

A small beep caught his attention, and he turned his head in time to see Elena carefully close the lid on the panel. At his questioning look, she spoke. "I've managed to override the main system, sir. However, Hojo's personal lab is a different story. I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do to disable it, sir. We'll still have to go through the vents."

Rufus nodded with a tight frown. Crawling through an endless expanse of vents did not sound pleasant in the least, but if it was what needed to be done he was willing.

Ten minutes later he was regretting his resolve. The vents above Hojo's lab were coated with a thick layer of dust that threw itself up into his eyes and mouth every time he so much as shifted his weight. Coughing into his hand for what felt like the thousandth time since he'd hauled himself up into this deathtrap, Rufus wiped a sleeve across his eyes, trying to clear his watering vision. All it did was smear more dust across his face and push the specks deeper into his eyes. He coughed again, utterly miserable. His only comfort was that Elena was affected by the dust, too. Not nearly as much, but he still heard her coughing every once and awhile.

"We're almost there, sir," she said suddenly. Maybe she'd sensed his misery. Or heard it, most likely. He was fairly sure he was minutes away from hacking up one of his lungs.

"Good," he choked out, giving up on maintaining his usual cool composure. They took yet another turn, the twelfth one. Rufus's respect for Elena skyrocketed. She hadn't gotten them lost yet.

"You know," he murmured as he brushed what looked eerily like a cobweb away from his face. No. He would _not _think about giant spiders right now, "if I ever decide to build another office complex, I'm going to install a security system in the vents."

"Why is that, sir?" Elena asked around subdued coughs.

"They seem like the easiest way to get somewhere. Want to break into a highly secure area? Easy. Simply crawl through the vent system."

Elena chuckled. "True. So what would you do, sir? Make the front door the easiest way in?"

"Perhaps. It would certainly make things interesting." Elena stopped abruptly. Rufus screeched to a halt behind her, narrowly avoiding slamming into her. "Elena?"

"This is it," Elena whispered. Rufus peered around her shoulder and realized she was hovering over a grate. Ghostly green, blue, and red light filtered up through the holes, creating multicolored diamonds on the metal walls around them.

"Well, I suppose the easy part is over, then," he muttered grimly.

Elena didn't acknowledge him as she carefully unscrewed the grate with a tool from her pocket and lifted it away. Rufus helped her lower it to the floor between them, trying to make as little noise as possible. The sound when the grate touched the floor still seemed too loud, prompting a wince from him. Elena grimaced, but maintained her silence.

"I did some earlier surveillance, sir. The lab is full of motion sensors," she said finally, leaning in close so she could whisper in his ear. The rebellious part of his brain decided to be giddy over how close she was to him. He ignored it, focusing on her words. "We'll have to be careful not to set any off until we locate the security panel."

"Wonderful," Rufus griped. Hojo's paranoia never ceased to surprise him. The man was a lunatic, but sometimes paranoia stemmed from rational things. He was hoping that Hojo was worried about intruders because he had things to hide, and not because he believed in wild conspiracy theories to the point where anyone who glanced at him for more than two seconds was going to kill him.

Which was probably close to the truth. Hojo was not well-liked. And with Hojo both the former possibilities were equally valid.

"Ready, sir?" Elena asked, still far too close for his comfort.

He nodded, pushing the strange butterflies in his stomach away. She didn't affect him. Not in the least. "Of course. Lead the way, Elena."

For a brief moment, Elena looked ready to ask that he stay in the vent. He glared at her, daring her to challenge him. True, it was her job to protect him, but there was a fine line between guarding and babysitting, and he wasn't about to let her cross it. Fortunately she got the message and turned her attention back to the grate. "Wait until I give you the signal, sir."

Only the 'sir' tacked on the end revealed that he was her superior. It felt a little strange, taking orders from a subordinate. He had the funny feeling that the only subordinate he would ever allow to order him around was Elena.

He nodded and watched as Elena lowered herself through the grate carefully. She hung suspended for an instant before twisting her body and landing about a foot away from the opening. Peering through it, Rufus saw the red light was from dozens of motion sensors crisscrossing the floor in thin lines. Somehow, Elena had managed to land in a clear spot. His respect for her rose several more notches, bordering dangerously on admiration.

With a look of concentration, Elena maneuvered over several more sensors, locating another safe place to stand. "Sir…" she turned back to him, but he understood what she wanted without vocalization.

Sighing, but feeling a slight thrill run through him at the prospect of danger, he lowered himself out of the opening, hanging suspended over the maze of sensors. He twisted a little until he could see the landing spot. His arms were rapidly beginning to burn in protest, and the subtle pain was screaming at him now, demanding to know why he was putting his body through so much strain. He gritted his teeth and clamped down on the pain, then swung a little to gain momentum and let go. His legs almost gave out when he hit the floor, but he straightened swiftly, regaining his balance. From the other safe spot, Elena shot him a mildly impressed look. He wasn't sure whether to be proud of his accomplishment or offended that she had doubted him.

"Well, now what?" He asked a little impatiently. He didn't particularly like this place. It was full of mako tanks, operating tables, scattered piles of paperwork and research notes, trays full of instruments Rufus refused to think about, and a few bookcases piled full with … stuff. It definitely looked like a mad scientist's lab. The less time they spent here, the better.

Elena turned cautiously in a slow circle, scanning the walls and ceiling for the security panel. A frustrated sigh escaped her when she found it—all the way across the room and almost completely concealed by the bookcase. Rufus agreed with the sentiment. It would take a great deal of skilled footwork to make it across the room without brushing a sensor.

"This is ridiculous," Elena huffed—already in motion. "Wait here, sir." She threw over her shoulder before continuing on her way, cursing Hojo and his paranoia and his influence within Shinra.

Bemused, Rufus crossed his arms and occupied himself with searching the surrounding surfaces for any information on Gast or Wutai. It was difficult to see in the dim light, and most of the papers were too far away to be legible, so after a few minutes he abandoned the search and settled for watching Elena pick her way across the floor. She moved with agile grace, hopping from clear spot to clear spot easily. Only the tension in her features let him know the process was more difficult than it appeared to be. By simply looking at her, he never would have guessed. It still took her several minutes and a lot of backtracking to reach the panel. When she did, he caught a glimpse of a bright grin of triumph, and had to suppress another silly urge to applaud her.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," she grumbled, but there was a light note to her tone.

"Bravo, Elena," Rufus remarked dryly. "I think you missed your calling. Though I do believe the circus still performs in Costa Del Sol."

"Very funny, sir," Elena replied in a similar tone. Rufus smirked—pleased she could appreciate his sense of humor and return it in kind. He supposed they were both more than a little twisted.

Silence fell between them again as Elena concentrated on overriding Hojo's security code—which was no doubt ridiculously complex, knowing Hojo. At last, right when Rufus was ready to attempt navigating the laser field and disabling the security himself, Elena let out a pleased "yes!" and the red lines around him vanished. He sighed in soft relief, tension he hadn't even been aware of bleeding out of his frame.

"Sorry about the wait, sir." Elena hurried back to him, crossing the distance three times as quickly without the hindering sensors. "Hojo's security system was insanely complex."

Not really surprised, Rufus rubbed his temple where he could feel a migraine beginning to form. "Well, I guess that would make sense. The man _is_ insane."

Elena merely shook her head in pained agreement, and moved them onward. "All right, sir, next step?"

"Spread out," Rufus said, straightening slightly as he took control once more. "Look for anything related to Gast or Wutai. Take pictures of any document that might seem of interest."

Elena nodded, pulling her flashlight and small camera from her suit. "Okay, sir. And I suggest we try not to disturb anything too much." By 'we' she meant _him, _but he ignored the kind-of insult with uncharacteristic grace. When it came to Elena, he seemed to have uncharacteristic grace in spades.

"Of course. And let's make it quick." He left it at that, knowing she didn't like this place either and was just as eager to leave.

They took opposite sides of the lab, carefully combing through what seemed to be endless piles of papers—which Rufus discovered were anything from research notes to maintenance orders. It was tedious work, but they doggedly kept at it. There was so much at stake here. Too much. Why did the fate of the world always rest on lunatics' shoulders? Sighing, Rufus crouched to study the lower shelves on one of the two bookcases. Elena had taken up residence by the other one, standing on her toes to reach the higher shelves.

Rufus was studying a document that looked like a request to transfer a few specimens from Nibelhiem to Midgar five and a half years ago when Elena called for him. "Sir! I think I found something."

Surging to his feet, Rufus shoved the paper back where he'd found it and rushed to the other bookcase. Elena held up a small sheaf of paper she'd apparently pulled from one of the books. "Look at this," she instructed. He took it from her, squinting as he attempted to decipher the handwritten scrawl. There was another universal question: why did people never bother to use decent handwriting? He couldn't make out most of it, but three words jumped from the paper: Gast, research, and Nibelhiem.

"From what I can gather, Hojo is storing Gast's research in Nibelhiem," he murmured. A wave of fleeting surprise crashed over him, but once it was gone he kicked himself for not considering the possibility sooner. The labs at the old Shinra manor were the perfect place to hide secrets. No one ever ventured down there anymore. And Hojo had been the only one to have complete free reign over the place. It would be easy for him to store information there, away from the prying eyes of the Shinra higher ups, who always stuck their noses where they didn't belong.

"Nibelhiem?" Elena echoed, sounding just as surprised.

"It makes sense," Rufus continued absently, still trying to pull more information from the withered paper. "It's been abandoned for years. No one goes there anymore. There are even rumors the place is haunted, or overrun by monsters."

"The perfect hiding place." Elena again voiced his thoughts. Yes, they were definitely spending too much time together. And he couldn't bring himself to care. "But, sir, we can't exactly go to Nibelhiem."

Giving up on the paper, Rufus took a picture and placed it back in the book. "No. It would raise far too much suspicion. I believe the old man will have me transferred back to the Junon soon. He doesn't like me being here. Too close to the seat of power, too much room to rebel—the reasons are endless."

Elena smiled sardonically. "Well, sir, he's not too far off with those suspicions."

Rufus mimicked her smile. "Yes. And he doesn't even know it." He set the book back on the shelf and brushed his gloves against his slacks, leaving faint brown smears across the black fabric. He frowned at the sight of them, wondering why Hojo couldn't be bothered to dust his lab. No wonder the man's voice was so nasal. "Anyway, _we _can't go to Nibelhiem, but _AVALANCHE _can."

Elena titled her head to the left, adopting a curious look. "You would send AVALANCHE to Nibelhiem, sir? How do you plan on contacting them? They would never believe you, and Reno is probably in the process of destroying all his ties to Shinra, if he hasn't already."

"Ah, but we have something no one else does." Rufus stepped away from the bookshelf and returned to his previous spot closer to the vent as Elena moved to reactivate the security system.

"Really?" Elena called as she reentered the code. "And what is that, sir?"

Rufus shot her a conspiring smirk when she glanced over her shoulder at him. "A walking, talking cat in a crown and a cape."

The sensors flared to life again in a web around them, momentarily ending any conversation. Elena worked her way back to him in silence, and then it took some fancy maneuvering to get back out through the opening. Elena ended up climbing onto Rufus's shoulders like some kind of monkey while Rufus staggered forward to the very edge of clear area, eyes watering as her heels dug into his skin. His right shoulder screamed in protest, but only a breathless gasp broke free. Elena finally latched onto the opening and pulled herself up into the vents. Rufus panted softly—forced to face the fact that his stamina was not up to par. He would have to fix that.

"Sir!" He glanced up at the sound, and found Elena leaning as far out of the vent as possible, hand outstretched.

Taking a deep breath and hoping she was strong enough to support his weight, Rufus took a few measured steps backward, then ran and jumped. Somehow, his fingers closed around Elena's wrist, gripping tight to the black fabric. Her fingers latched onto his wrist, and with a heavy grunt, she pulled, throwing every ounce of her weight into the motion. Rufus was able to hook one arm over the end of the opening, and began to push himself up. A hand fisted in the back of his jacket, aiding him, then suddenly he was lying on the dusty floor of the vent struggling to catch his breath and completely convinced that Elena was superhuman.

"Now I know why people are hesitant to attempt the vents," he gasped through heaving breaths.

Elena laughed, equally winded. "Good job, sir."

"Thank you," Rufus replied and forced himself to sit up, wriggling around until he was on his hands and knees again and facing the right direction. "Now, let's get out of here before my lungs become permanently coated with dust."

"I think it might be too late for that, sir," Elena said, but began sliding the grate back into the place and screwing it shut swiftly.

It took more fancy maneuvering to get Elena in front so she could lead them out of the maze. He wasn't too prideful to admit that he would get them hopelessly lost in five minutes flat, but only to himself.

They paused in front of the elevator to catch their breath again—or rather, Elena stopped so _Rufus _could catch his breath, but neither acknowledged that—and Elena finally continued their earlier conversation. "So you want to send Cait Sith to AVALANCHE, sir?"

"Yes," Rufus said, sliding his keycard again. "Reeve has more than one Cait Sith. One won't be missed. Besides, the Shinra higher ups don't even know of its existence, so one being spotted with AVALANCHE won't link back to us. From what Reeve has told me, Cait Sith is also untraceable."

Elena hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm. It would be like having a walkie-talkie to AVALANCHE."

Rufus chuckled. "Interesting metaphor, but you're right. It would be exactly like having a walkie-talkie to AVALANCHE."

"It won't be easy convincing them, sir." The elevator arrived with a happy ding and the two stepped inside, breathing a little easier now that they were relatively safe again.

"I know," Rufus leaned his head back against the elevator, relishing the feel of cool glass against his flushed skin. His shoulder was still throbbing, but it was dull and easily ignored. "But I have confidence in Reno. He's the only one who can make this work."

"He'll be able to do it," Elena said with conviction. "He may act like a moron, and sometimes actually _be _a moron, but overall he's brilliant. If anyone can pull it off, it's him."

"Which is why I picked him," Rufus murmured. A tiny part of him pointed out that he'd sent Reno chasing after AVALANCHE because he didn't want to give up Elena, but he stubbornly brushed it aside.

A soft sound caught his attention and when he glanced at Elena, he was shocked to see amusement dancing in her eyes. One hand was pressed to her mouth, likely in an attempt to stifle the laugh that had just escaped. "Elena?" he asked with an arched eyebrow, wondering what was so entertaining and almost certain it was him.

"Sorry, sir. It's just … I don't think I've ever seen you this dirty."

Frowning, Rufus stared at his reflection in the elevator glass. His face was smeared with grime and dirt, and a thin layer of sweat plastered his bangs to his cheeks. When he ran his fingers through his hair, he found numerous tangles, and more grime. His suit was streaked with it as well.

He looked like a hobo.

Huffing indignantly, he turned back to Elena. She was just as dirt-covered as he was, if not more, and some of her blond hair even stuck up in places—made heavy by sweat. "Well, you look no better."

They regarded each other for a long moment, before erupting into a quiet fit of laughter. Feeling a lot like a giggly teenager, and a little mortified over that mental image, Rufus reigned in his chuckling quickly, but remained open enough to let his eyes reflect his mirth. "You know, I don't think I've ever had this much fun."

Elena smiled at him brightly. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Of course, Elena."

Her smile grew a few millimeters and adopted a teasing edge. "You look great in black, sir."

For once in his life, Rufus Shinra was shocked speechless.

* * *

"So … what are you doing, exactly?" Zack scratched his head, feeling like a complete and total moron, but for the life of him, he couldn't understand why Reno was starting up the helicopter again.

Reno stuck his tongue out in concentration as he flipped switches and checked dials, preparing to bring the silent craft roaring back to life. It was probably almost out of fuel, from all the trips it had made in the last three days, so it was reasonable to assume Reno wasn't actually going to take it anywhere. Right?

"Hey Fair," Reno drawled, completely ignoring the question, "where's that friend of yours with the freaky gun arm?"

Zack sighed, exasperated. "I'm guessing you're talking about Barrett. You know, things might start smoothing over between you if you learned his _name." _

"Or he kills me in my sleep," Reno shot back with a completely serious expression.

Zack rolled his eyes, feeling a little like he was speaking to a five-year-old—but Reno had always been this way, so he really should start getting used to it—and leaned against the chopper. "He's around here somewhere."

"Find him for me, will ya? I've got a favor to ask him."

Zack's eyebrows made an impressive leap for his hairline. "What?" Was Reno _serious? _He wanted to ask a favor? What a joke. Unless the favor involved assisted suicide, Zack doubted Barrett would be inclined to help. If the large rebel actually said yes, then Hell was probably minutes away from freezing over.

"Don't sound so shocked," Reno scoffed. Zack realized with a jolt that he'd actually been gaping at the ex-Turk for about a good thirty seconds.

"Well excuse me if I wasn't informed that you two suddenly became best friends," he snorted contemptuously, and was ignored yet again. "Seriously, though, what makes you think he'd ever agree to help you with anything—except maybe throwing you off a cliff."

Reno grinned brightly at him, reminding Zack of a twisted circus clown. "Trust me, he'll want to help with this."

Zack grumbled—absolutely convinced that he was being sent on a fool's errand, or that this was Reno's warped idea of getting him out of his hair—and set off toward the hangers of Rocket Town in search of Barrett. They had decided to remain here for a few days to rest, regroup, and decide what their next step would be. Cid had holed himself up in the hangers to spend time with his precious airships. The man definitely had severe separation anxiety. The others were left to their own devices, though Shera had put a few of them to work in the yard. Aerith had started gardening immediately, and Zack had rarely seen her happier than when she was up to her elbows in dirt. She was even attempting to teach Tifa, but the other woman didn't have the required patience.

He finally found Barrett up a ladder replacing a window in one of the hangers. It was rather funny. In spite of the man's tough exterior, he had quickly been roped into helping by Shera. Convincing him hadn't even taken five minutes. One puppy dog luck from the woman and he was gone.

"Hey, Barrett," Zack called, pausing at the foot of the ladder.

Barrett glanced down in surprise, but fortunately didn't drop the glass pane he was holding, or fall off the ladder. "What?"

"Reno wants your help with something." Barrett's features darkened instantly, morphing into something fierce.

"No," the rebel spat. "I ain't helpin' that murderer." When it came to Reno, Barrett hadn't bothered to hide his hate, like Tifa. Most of AVALANCHE resented the Turk's presence. Really, only Aerith and Zack didn't mind. The rest either ignored him completely or shot death glares at him at every available opportunity.

Zack sighed again. "Please, Barrett, just see what he wants," he murmured, stamping down the anger that automatically welled up in him. He had forgiven Reno easily enough, but only because he knew that humanity lay beneath that callous mask the Turk wore. The others hadn't seen, didn't know, and so it would take precious time they didn't have.

Barrett glanced down again and a little of the coldness melted when his eyes met Zack's openly pleading ones. Zack was tired and worn thin, and the underlying tension within the group was slowly suffocating him. In spite of his SOLDIER background, and the fact that he actually enjoyed taking out baddies on occasion, he hated it when there was conflict surrounding, or between, people he cared about. He was close to his boiling point, he knew, and it would either result in him down on his knees begging his friends to be nice to Reno, or smacking some sense into all of them.

"Please, Barrett," he repeated, "will it kill you to just see what he wants? He said you wouldn't mind helping him with this."

Curiosity stole across Barrett's features before he could stop it, and with a muttered curse, he climbed down the ladder and set the glass pane aside. "Fine, kid. But don't expect nothin'."

Zack wasn't. To be honest, he considered it a miracle Barrett had even agreed to go. "Okay," he replied with a happy grin that widened when he saw the corner of Barrett's normally scowling mouth hike up slightly.

Reno was waiting for them in the chopper—arms crossed over his chest, head back, and eyes closed in a perfect picture of casual patience. Well, until he cracked open one and ruined it by griping, "What took you so long?"

"I was only gone for about five minutes," Zack shot back with a half-hearted scowl.

"Definitely longer than five minutes. Oh good, you brought him." Reno's eyes lit up faintly when he saw Barrett, and Zack got the sudden impression that Reno hadn't expected the rebel to come, either.

"Well what do you want, Turk? I ain't gonna stand out here all day." Barrett crossed his arms across his expansive chest and leveled the redhead with his best death glare, radiating such strong waves of annoyance that Zack took a step or two away from him.

Reno hopped down from the chopper and grinned at Barrett, obviously not intimidated in the least. "I want you to shoot me out of the sky."

Well, _that _was unexpected.

Zack's jaw dropped and Barrett's glare evaporated faster than snowflakes in the desert. "W-what?" he spluttered.

Reno's grin didn't falter. "I want you to shoot me down. When I fly the helicopter up. You see, Reno of the Turks was on his way back from Wutai when he was ambushed by AVALANCHE and killed in a helicopter crash. It was all very tragic, but then again, no one misses a Turk."

"You're going to fake your own death," Zack concluded with a touch of awe.

Reno nodded. "Of course. This would never work otherwise. And unfortunately, Tseng isn't an idiot so I have to make it look convincing."

Zack frowned a little at the mention of Tseng. Not for the first time he wondered how Reno felt leaving all his comrades behind. He didn't know much about the Turks, but had seen the camaraderie between them during his few brief missions with them. They didn't have anyone else, and while each pretended to stand alone, when no one was watching they leaned on each other for support. Reno and Rude had been practically inseparable….

"Does Rude know?" The second the words left his mouth he realized that this was _so _not the right time to ask that question. Reno flinched visibly, something very close to remorse passing briefly through his eyes. Barrett watched the sudden exchange silently, glancing back and forth between them as awkward tension settled into the air.

For a long minute, Reno looked like he wasn't going to answer. And Zack was okay with that. He didn't want him to answer, really. He hadn't meant to reach so deep and expose so much in front of Barrett, and Reno deserved to maintain his privacy. The Turk's calculating eyes shifted to Barrett succinctly. Zack caught the wariness in them—the fear of being so vulnerable in front of an adversary. Feeling like a horrible person, the ex-SOLDIER hurried to remedy the situation he'd stupidly created. "Reno, I'm—"

"No," Reno blurted abruptly. The single word was rasping and soft, as though it had taken all of his strength to simply utter it. "No, he doesn't." He didn't elaborate and Zack didn't press further. Barrett looked vaguely unsettled. Seeing such raw emotion from Reno had probably thrown him off-balance.

Reno shook his head and hurriedly fixed his mask back in place, though it lacked the usual smirk. "So, about the shooting me down thing—you up for it?" He turned to Barrett expectantly.

Barrett was gripped by indecision, but it was fleeting. He raised his arm, morphing it into a gun, and smiled darkly. "Definitely."

Zack's eyebrows rose again. Something had changed. He couldn't put his finger on what, but some of that ever-present tension had fled with Reno's quiet admission. Maybe, that was why the redhead had forced himself to say it.

Reno smirked again, almost back to normal, and clambered back up into the helicopter. "Okay," he said as he started flipping switches once more, "I'm going to fly in a wide arc back toward Wutai and then turn around. When I get close to this spot," he gestured to the open field around them, "shoot me down."

"With pleasure." Barrett raised his arm, looking deeply pleased about getting to blast away at a Shinra aircraft. Zack rolled his eyes.

Reno saluted them casually, then started up the chopper. Zack and Barrett were forced to back away from the onslaught of wind, shielding their faces with their arms. With a dull roar, the aircraft rose into the air and headed off toward the east. It kept going until it was a mere speck on the horizon before slowly changing course and returning. Barrett planted his feet and took aim while Zack made sure he was well out of the big man's way, not wanting to get blasted by a stray bullet, or deafened by gunfire.

When the helicopter was almost directly above them, Barrett opened fire, wearing a satisfied smirk. The helicopter swayed dangerously then twisted into a tailspin, careening toward the earth at a breakneck speed. Zack watched nervously, battling the urge to wring his hands. He couldn't possibly be worried about Reno. The Turk had nine lives. A helicopter crash wasn't enough to kill him.

Right?

A flash of red caught his eye moments before the helicopter hit the ground and exploded—fire blooming like a bright flower around it as smoke billowed toward the sky in a thick black plume. Zack threw his arm up and ducked as debris and dirt flew in every direction. Barrett hunkered down beside him, but he looked pleased at his handiwork.

"Think the Turk's still alive?" he asked. Zack glared at him, easily detecting how disappointed Barrett would be if Reno _had _managed to survive.

Clambering to his feet, the ex-SOLDIER ran pell-mell toward the crash site, yelling Reno's name at the top of his lungs.

"Over here," a weak voice said, and again Zack saw red in the corner of his eye—a dozen or so yards from the crash site. Thankful for Reno's distinctive hair, he rushed over to the Turk who was carefully picking himself up off the ground.

Reno was sporting numerous cuts and abrasions, a few burns, and more than a few bruises.

And he was in his underwear.

Zack froze as his mind desperately tried to come up with a plausible explanation for this, but kept finding absolutely nothing. "Umm … Reno, what happened to your clothes?"

Reno swayed slightly, but still smiled. "I ditched them. Like I said, had to make it convincing. A few pieces of clothing, a little blood, a massive crash site, and bang! Instant realistic death."

Zack shook his head, not quite sure whether to be shocked or amused. "You're something else."

"I know," Reno replied casually. "Now, can we find some clothes? It's a little chilly out here."

Zack nodded. "I'm sure Cid has something lying around you can borrow…." He trailed off, suddenly noticing the bandage that ran from the edge of Reno's white undershirt all the way down his arm to his wrist. "Reno … what?"

"It's nothing," Reno said quickly. "Just an old injury that keeps flaring up. You're such a mother hen, Fair."

"Hey!" Zack barked, instantly offended. "Like I worry about you."

Reno looked ready to offer a scathing retort, but Barrett ambled up to them. "Damn," the rebel cursed at the sight of Reno, "he lived." But somehow, in spite of his harsh tone, Zack knew Barrett didn't fully mean it. Not this time.

"Sorry to disappoint," Reno sniped back, then shivered as a breeze picked up. "Clothes?"

Zack nodded again. "Right. C'mon."

They hadn't taken two steps when they were swarmed by shocked, concerned, and annoyed members of AVALANCHE.

"What just happened?" Cloud asked, staring wide-eyed at the burning helicopter in the middle of the field.

"Who crashed the helicopter?" Red inquired.

"Is everyone okay?" Aerith demanded, looking alarmed at the sight of Reno's battered form.

"What did you idiots do to my landin' strip!" Cid roared, waving his arms and probably about two seconds away from beating all three of them to death with the power tool he was still holding.

"Whose stupid idea was this?" Tifa snapped, and the three men cowered under her stern gaze.

"Why is Reno in his underwear?" Yuffie asked curiously—remarkably unconcerned with the smoldering helicopter.

Reno threw up a hand in exasperation, attempting to hide behind Zack. "Look, I'll answer all your pressing questions _after _I get some clothes, 'kay?"

There was grumbling all around, but the group eventually trudged back to the main compound. Aerith hauled Reno inside and plopped him in a chair with instructions not to move while she got a first aid kit. Reno wearily complied, but for some reason refused to let her remove the bandage on his arm. Zack was suspicious about it—the redhead was definitely hiding something—but forced himself to keep his mouth shut for once.

When Cid shoved a pair of clothes into Reno's arms, the ex-Turk smiled at him gratefully and retreated into the bathroom. Unfortunately, once he was gone, the group's scrutiny turned to Zack and Barrett.

"What was that all about?" Zack shrank away from Tifa's demanding stare, suddenly feeling the urge to just run and hide.

"It was Reno's idea," he hurriedly explained. "He wanted to fake his death. So the rest of the Turks wouldn't come after him. So he kinda had Barrett shoot the helicopter out the sky. That way the Turks can pin it on AVALANCHE."

"That makes sense," Cloud said after a pregnant pause. "It will buy us some time."

Zack shot him a grateful look, relieved that _someone _was on his side in all this. Good old, Cloud—he really was a loyal friend.

"Yeah, but my landing strip!" Cid cried. "Do you have any idea how long it's gonna take to fix it!"

The rest of AVALANCHE cast uncertain looks at each other before unanimously deciding that it was better to just ignore the irate pilot. Cid continued grumbling to himself as he stalked out the door in search of Shera to vent at.

Once the door slammed shut behind him, Tifa looked back at Zack. "Won't pegging Reno's death on us just make the rest of the Turks seek revenge?"

"No," Zack answered with complete certainty. "The Turks don't have time or room for revenge. I've only ever seen them act out of anger once, and that was when Shinra threatened to have Verdot—the director before Tseng—executed." He glanced at the bathroom door, remembering Reno's pained expression as he admitted that Rude didn't know about his defection. "They care about each other, and grieve when one of their own dies, but they never seek revenge. They're too practical for that."

Silence followed in the wake of his words, and when Zack finally focused on his comrades again he saw disquiet, surprise, and contemplation in varying degrees on each face. Feeling very embarrassed all of a sudden, Zack coughed, rubbed the back of his head, then discreetly sought escape. "I'm going to see what's keeping Reno. He's been in there forever."

He marched to the bathroom door, uncomfortably aware of the gazes boring into his back, and pounded on it. "Reno, what are you, a girl? You've been in there for ages!"

"One sec!" Reno shouted back—voice muffled by the door. There were several small thumps and one somewhat alarming crash followed by a string of curses then Reno wrenched open the door.

"Jeez, Fair, if you need to go so badly find a tree," the Turk complained.

Zack didn't hear him. His mind was far too preoccupied trying to process the sight before him. Reno was wearing dark brown pants and a navy turtle neck, which looked odd simply because it _wasn't _a suit, and Zack had never seen him in anything but a suit. But his clothes were hardly the most alarming thing about the picture.

No, it was his hair.

Which was short. And _black. _

After a minute, Zack's brain gave up and practically short circuited. Reno with black hair. Image not computing.

Zack took a deep, calming breath, grabbed a bemused Reno by the shoulders, and exploded with surprising force. "What in _Gaia's name _did you do to your hair?!"

* * *

Reeve looked rather funny when he was half asleep. Well, Rufus corrected himself as stared at him, probably more than half. The man's usually well-kept hair stuck up in an impressive imitation of a bird's nest, and his sharply intelligent eyes were glazed and unfocused, blinking at the two figures on his doorstep without any real comprehension. Rufus's amusement rapidly tumbled into annoyance when Reeve didn't seem inclined to do more than stand and stare.

"Well, Reeve, are you going to keep us out here all night?" he asked a little demandingly.

Reeve continued to blink at him. "Rufus … it's four in the morning…."

Rufus arched one elegant eyebrow—the perfect picture of patronization. "Is it? I hadn't noticed." His tone dripped with sarcasm that unfortunately flew straight over Reeve's head. He could almost hear it whistle on its way past.

"Yes," Reeve mumbled. "It is. Sane people are asleep at this hour."

Hmm. Reeve was also a lot bolder when he was half asleep.

"Good thing I'm not sane then," Rufus replied, beginning to rapidly lose patience. "Now, wake yourself up before I have Elena do it for you. We need to talk."

Reeve didn't seem to hear him. Instead he was staring blearily at some spot on his chest—a confused look slowly creeping over his sleep-fogged features. "Rufus … you're wearing black…."

Rufus glanced down at his still-filthy suit with disdain. He hadn't had time to change before rushing over to Reeve's to discuss this new development. This was the best time to talk, when the rest of higher ups finally closed their watchful eyes in sleep, and he hadn't wanted to waste any of it. He _had, _however, paused to clean his hair and face. He refused to look like a complete hobo, especially out in public.

"Or is it brown….?" Reeve continued after a moment, looking absolutely flabbergasted.

"_Reeve," _Rufus hissed, feeling his last shreds of patience fray and tear.

Reeve's eyes snapped up to his face and a little wakefulness jolted into them when they met Rufus's blazing ones. Rubbing a hand across his face, the head of Urban Development visibly tried to shake off some of his stupor. "I suppose you can explain everything to me inside." He gestured for them to enter and shut the door behind them, nodding a small greeting to Elena.

He guided them to a sitting room just off the hallway and indicated a plush loveseat with an idle wave of his hand. "Please have a seat, I'm going to go get coffee. Lot's of it."

Well, at least _some _of his manners were returning.

Rufus sank onto side while Elena sat stiffly on the other. He felt a little bad about smearing dirt all over the cream fabric, but only a little. Reeve could easily afford to have his furniture cleaned. While he listened to Reeve bang around in the kitchen, the vice president snuck a careful glance at Elena, noting her rigid posture and stern gaze. She was fully back in Turk Mode, it seemed.

He missed her teasing smile.

A few seconds after the thought danced its merry way through his head, disrupting _everything, _Rufus froze with internal horror. Where had _that _come from? He didn't really care to know. It was weak, pointless, and out of character. So he crushed it. Mercilessly.

Thankfully, Reeve returned before any more odd thoughts could force their way to the surface. He looked more awake, and was nursing a huge cup of coffee. With a small sigh, he sank into the loveseat on the opposite of the coffee table, taking a large swing from the mug before speaking. "So, if you don't mind me asking, but why are you here at this hour? And dressed like that? I'm assuming your venture into Hojo's lab was successful."

Rufus nodded, folding his hands in his lap and hooking one leg over the other in a casual manner that belied the serious expression on his face. "More or less. We didn't find much, but it was enough to point us in the right direction."

"Where that might be?" Reeve asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Nibelheim," Rufus replied grimly.

Reeve's lips parted in surprise as his eyes widened considerably. "Nibelheim?" he echoed, sounding more astonished than Elena had been.

"Hojo is keeping some of Gast's work there."

Reeve's features darkened into weary resignation. "I always knew that place would come back to haunt us some day."

Rufus smiled darkly. "So it would seem."

Reeve glanced back up at him, collecting himself. "I'm guessing you have a plan? You know better than I do that we can't go traipsing off to Nibelheim without raising all kinds of alarm."

Rufus regarded him serenely, though was inwardly curious about how Reeve would react to being asked to send one of his precious creations into the hands of a bunch of hostile rebels. "We need to borrow one of your toys again, Reeve. We want to send a Cait Sith out to speak to AVALANCHE. Hopefully, Reno can convince them to go to Nibelheim for us. Cait Sith can relay any information they find."

As he had anticipated, Reeve seemed a little nervous about the idea, but shrugged it off quickly. "Very well. It will be interesting to test Cait Sith's capabilities. I've never sent him on a long range mission before."

"How long will it take to reach AVALANCHE?"

Reeve shrugged. "No way to tell, really. We don't even know where they—"

"They are currently in Rocket Town," Rufus cut him off.

For the second time that night, Reeve came close to gaping at him. Instead, he settled for lifting both his eyebrows high on his forehead. "May I ask how you knew that?"

Rufus smirked secretively. "I have my ways."

Reeve sighed, accepted the characteristically vague answer, and moved on. "Well, if they're all the way out it Rocket Town, it will probably take Cait Sith a couple days to reach them. Three at the most."

"I believe they will stay put for that long." Rufus steepled his fingers and sat forward ever so slightly, pinning Reeve with an inquiring stare. "If not we can find them again. When will you be ready to send it out?"

Rufus took another deep gulp from his mug. "First thing in the morning." He paused, chuckling. "Or rather, a little later on today. Before everyone comes into the office."

It was a little later than he had hoped, but it would do. With a curt nod, Rufus rose, feeling a number of minute aches and pains throb through his body. The adrenalin from the infiltration was wearing off, and exhaustion was settling down in its wake. He wanted little more than to take a shower, get out of his dirt-smeared clothes, and collapse into bed. Reeve got to his feet, as well, though without the quiet grace.

"We won't keep you any longer, Reeve. Inform me when you've sent Cait Sith on its way."

Reeve nodded. "Of course."

He saw them to the door, and bid them a tired goodbye. He didn't seem too upset about being woken at such an ungodly hour, however. He was too kind for his own good sometimes. Rufus knew that bleeding heart of his would get crushed one day. Not that his own heart didn't bleed from time to time. It was the only part of him that did.

But he never let anyone see.

"Should I take you home, sir?" Elena asked.

He turned to glance at her, offering a tired nod. "Yes, Elena. I desperately need a shower."

Elena returned his nod, but he also thought he glimpsed a brief smile before she headed for the car. No, it was most likely just his weary mind and the dim streetlights playing tricks on him.

His mind and his _stupid_, bleeding heart that longed to see more of Elena's smile.

* * *

Zack glanced at Reno out of the corner of his eye, still disbelieving. Three days and he just couldn't get used to seeing black hair on the Turk. Reno's hair was one of the most distinctive things about him—such a fiery shade of red that it caught the eye from nearly a mile away. Which was exactly why he'd gotten rid of it. Zack knew all the reasons, understood perfectly why doing away with Reno's red hair was necessary, but it still didn't seem right.

Without his hair Reno just wasn't, well, _Reno. _

His comrades clearly had the same opinion, if their not-so-subtle stares were anything to go by. Everyone had been shell-shocked by the abrupt change, even after Reno had calmly explained that the first thing anyone would look for was his hair.

"Isn't that the first thing they'll think of?" Zack had asked once Reno had finally pried himself loose from his stunned grip.

"_If _they think I'm still alive … maybe. I doubt Tseng thinks I've got the guts to do this to my hair. I _love _my hair." He'd sounded childishly pained over the loss, but even while rolling his eyes, Zack had felt a twinge of sympathy.

Three days later, everyone was still attempting to adjust. And they'd gotten no closer to hashing out their next step. Opinions between group members varied so much that it was difficult to find common ground.

Barrett wanted to keep striking against Shinra—possibly joining the strong resistance in Fort Condor. Tifa was inclined to agree with him, but also suggested they aide a more fledging resistance, like the one slowly growing around Cosmo Canyon. Red merely wanted to return home to his people, whom he hadn't seen in years. Aerith suggested they lie low for awhile and stay away from the heart of the fighting. Yuffie was all for attacking Shinra on their own, gleefully ranting about "stealth attacks" and Shinra "never knowing what hit them." Cid seemed a little indifferent about the whole thing, but leaned toward the more violent, aggressive route that Tifa, Yuffie, and Barrett were pushing. Cloud was silent, and Zack couldn't really tell what his friend thought about the whole thing—he'd dodged all of his persistent questions about it and been a general stick in the mud until Zack gave up in frustration. Reno kept out of the debate, realizing his opinion would shot down faster than he could blink, but Zack knew he wanted to look into what Shinra might be planning for Wutai. That was where Zack stood, as well. He was curious about what Shinra was excavating and he'd promised Godo he would see if he could find out anything.

Strangely enough, none of them ever mentioned splitting up. It was no longer an option. Either they went together or they didn't go at all. After nearly a month of living in each other's constant company—well, Barrett, Tifa, Cloud, Zack, Aerith, and Red, at least—none of them could imagine just walking away. And while Cid, Yuffie, and Reno didn't have the same level of experience, they were adamant that where they others went, they would follow.

So they were at an impasse, and had been dancing around the issue for days now. All the conflict was fraying Zack's nerves even worse than before, until he felt like a complete basket case.

"What should we do?" he moaned to Cloud in the middle of the third day. "We keep going in circles and getting nowhere!"

Cloud frowned at him as he painted the fence Zack was supposed to be helping with. "I don't think we can just lie low. No one is patient enough for that. Not even Aerith."

"Got that right," Reno spoke up from a few feet down the fence, looking weird with a brush in his hand and _black _hair. Zack stared at it for a minute—once again attempting to get used to seeing it with Reno's face. Once he realized he was staring yet again, he glanced away and sighed. Stupid, distracting black hair. It was worse than the red.

Reno continued, ignoring Zack's odd look as he had ignored everyone else's. "There's no way we can just sit around here twiddling our thumbs. We'd all go crazy in less than a week. We've been here what—three days? Three days and I'm already climbing the walls. I need to fight something. Or shoot something. All this fence-painting and weeding and _fixing _stuff is destroying my pride, one stupid step at a time. Do you have _any_ idea what Elena would say if she saw me?"

Zack chuckled, lifting his head enough to shoot Reno a highly amused look. "I can imagine."

Reno grumbled and went back to haphazardly slapping paint on the fence, leaving Zack to contemplate what they should do. Because they had to do _something. _

"So, we can't lie low. That leaves fighting Shinra. But should we go join another resistance, or fight on our own, or play spy and try to figure out what they're up to?"

Cloud shrugged, smoothing over Reno's uneven strokes. "It depends on what would do the most good, I guess."

"You know my opinion," Reno muttered, but refrained from ranting again.

"Yeah, but I don't know _what_ would do the most good!" Zack sat up and threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "I have _no_ idea! Nobody can decide on _anything _so we're sitting here painting _fences _like absolute pansies and wasting time!"

"I don't see you painting fences." Cloud raised a dripping brush at him threateningly, looking as frustrated as he felt. It seemed the conflict was eating away at more people than just him.

"You don't need three people to paint a fence!" Zack cried, and began to pace back and forth in a tight line. Cloud and Reno paused their painting to stare at him—eyes sliding back and forth as they tracked his tense movements.

"I'm so sick of this," he said after a long moment. "I wish something—anything—would just _happen_!"

And at that moment, as if the Planet had suddenly decided to play some kind of cosmic joke on them, a cat in a crown and a cape walked into the yard.

* * *

**Coming up next-- **"So ... everyone else is seeing the cat, too, right? I'm not going crazy, right? Right?!"


	33. XXX: Scattered Pawns

**Hola. I'm am frantically uploading this because once classes start in a few hours I will no longer have a life or time to write very often. So if you do not hear from me for awhile, never fear. I have not abandoned this story nor am I dead, college has just consumed me. I will try to write when I can, but it maybe a month or longer before my next update. Just a heads up. **

**Oh, and if this chapter seems a little scattered and disjointed to you, it's intentional. This is a bit of a filler, checking up on various people in the story. I got the title idea from the quote, "the board is set, the pieces are moving" by Gandalf in Lord of the Rings. Just a pointless thing you probably didn't need to know or even care about. But things are going to be picking up speed after this. Please fasten your seatbelts. :) **

**Read, and review! I love reviews. They're wonderful things, really. Addicting. Like crack, but without the negative side effects. **

* * *

The city looked peaceful from such great heights. From the 50th story of the Shinra Building there was no chaos, no death, no bodies lying consumed by an unknown disease in the streets, no war, no rebellion. Only glittering lights spread out in an almost endless sea. It was too tranquil, too quiet—a lie, an illusion, and it made him a little sad every time he looked at it. But only a little. He had pledged his loyalty to this company many years ago, and loyal he would always remain. Except…

Reno was dead.

Tseng had come to him early that morning with grim lines on his face and stoic determination in his eyes, and told him in a cold, unwavering voice that somehow failed to adequately mask his grief that AVALANCHE had shot down Reno's helicopter just outside of Rocket Town. Rod had been out to investigate and found no signs of the rebel group, but pieces of Reno's suit on the charred, blood-spattered remains of the pilot seat. It was all that was left.

He knew he should be furious, and stricken with grief—because even though Turks weren't supposed to feel, Reno was his partner, best friend, and the closest thing to family he had known for years. He should be breaking apart from the loss. Tseng clearly expected him to. The director had almost waited for it. But when he merely nodded and said "I see" without any inflection, the man's eyes had widened with barely disguised surprise and he had left, probably thinking Rude didn't want to break in front of him.

That wasn't the truth. Rude wasn't breaking. He wasn't even sad. Because this was Reno, and Reno was a force of nature with a hundred lives, and Reno didn't die from _helicopter crashes. _If Rude was certain of anything in the world, it was that.

But in a twisted sort of way, he hoped that AVALANCHE _had _somehow taken Reno's life. If they hadn't, it meant that his partner had finally done what he'd wanted to for years and defected. There was no forgiveness in Shinra for something like that. If Reno had defected, his fellow Turks would be forced to hunt him down and kill him. Rude may have been an exemplary Turk, but even he didn't think he would be able to look his longtime friend in the eye and pull the trigger. He was still too human for that.

He wanted to hate Reno, too—for leaving, for betraying them, for forcing him to face a situation where he _might _have to pull the trigger, for not saying good-bye. He couldn't, though. The hate just wouldn't come. He didn't understand, but that wasn't a surprise. He had never understood Reno, even after years at his side. How could a mere human grasp understanding of a force of a nature?

So he wasn't angry, he wasn't sad, he was somewhere in between—in a strange, suspended state of emptiness.

"Reno … what were you thinking?" Rude murmured, wishing for once in his life he could learn how his friend's mind worked.

There wasn't an answer, and there probably never would be. He would face Reno not as a friend but as an enemy, and though it would kill him, he would pull the trigger without any comprehension of _why _his friend walked away so suddenly. He wouldn't give Reno the chance to explain. Because he was a Turk. He had pledged his loyalty to this company many years ago, and loyal he would remain.

Even if Reno had to die because of it.

* * *

Zack blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again. Looked down. Yep, the cat was still there, staring up at him expectantly, though what he/she/it was waiting for he didn't have a clue.

"Uh…" he began intelligently, wondering what one was supposed to say to a cat dressed in boots, a gaudy crown, and a fluttering cape.

The cat didn't seem to care about his monosyllabic greeting. "Hello!" He/she/it cried cheerfully, waving one small arm—and, oh, look at that, it was wearing gloves, too. "How do ya do?" Zack almost fell over. The thing _talked. _And it had the most ridiculous accent he had ever heard. This _had _to be a hallucination. Talking cats in strange costumes simply did not exist in real life—though a little voice in his head reasonably pointed out that after everything he had seen in Hojo's labs, he shouldn't be so surprised.

The cat was staring expectantly again. Right, it was rude not to respond when greeted by someone, even if it was a cat.

"Uh … hi?" Zack stammered weakly, wondering if this was some new side affect of having mako in the bloodstream.

"Cait Sith?" Zack started as Reno hurried up to them, eyes wide with surprise but also clear recognition. "What are _you _doing here?"

The cat turned to regard the ex-Turk and jumped theatrically, clasping a hand against his small chest in exaggerated shock. "Good gracious me! What happened to your hair?"

Reno rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind that. Why are you here? And how did you get here?"

"Wait!" Zack cut in, glancing back and forth between the two. "You _know _this thing?"

"I have a name ya know, laddie," the cat said, placing its hands on its hips in an eerily human gesture. "It's Cait Sith. And I'm not a _thing." _

"Well, technically you are a thing…." Reno began contemplatively, but trailed off when faced with a look from the cat, who somehow managed to express hurt and outrage without ever changing his expression. "But never mind. Zack, this is Cait Sith. He's an invention of Reeve's—a robot, excelling in infiltration."

"Holy crap." Zack gaped at the little robot beaming up at him.

"Pleased to meet ya, laddie!"

"Uh … thanks. Pleased to meet you, too."

"Is that a cat?" Cloud came up behind Zack, dripping paintbrush still in hand, and peered over his shoulder curiously.

"Yeah. He's a robot," Zack murmured with a touch of disbelief. This still felt like some weird dream.

"A robot?" Cloud echoed with the same disbelief, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, apparently some guy called Reeve built him."

"Who's Reeve?"

"Hey guys?" Reno cut in, waving to get their attention. "I'll explain everything later, but right now, I have feeling Cait Sith has some important information for us. Reeve wouldn't have sent him otherwise. At least, I _think _he wouldn't have. You never know with Reeve…."

"I do have somethin' important to tell ya," Caith Sith interjected seriously, crossing his arms. Zack got the impression the robot was upset at Reno for insulting this Reeve person. So strange.

"Who is Reeve, exactly?" Zack asked.

"He's the head of the Urban Development department in Shinra, but he also invents a lot other stuff on the side," Reno jerked his thumb in Cait Sith's direction. "We've used some of it on Turk missions. It can be handy. Sometimes."

"He's on your side, though, so don't ya worry." Caith Sith patted his leg comfortingly, and Zack tried to wrap his head around both how human the little cat seemed and what he had just said.

"Wait … he's on our side?"

Reno chuckled sardonically. "What, you think I'm the only one who sympathizes with you, Fair?"

"So, there are others?" Zack marveled. Other people in Shinra, _high level _people, who wanted to help them? The idea seemed almost ludicrous. But he knew from experience that not everyone who worked for the great company was evil. Perhaps this Reeve was one of the few who still had a heart that could bleed and mourn for the pain Shinra had brought to the Planet and its people.

"How many others?" Cloud's gaze held traces of the wonder Zack felt, but also quiet calculation. Zack could almost see him running things through his head, trying to figure out if there were enough people to overthrow the company. It was slightly unbalancing. He could remember many times when Sephiroth had worn the same expression now adorning Cloud's face. And when it came to Sephiroth, he _hated _déjà vu.

Reno shrugged. "A few." He turned away, ending the conversation. There would apparently be no more elaboration for the time being. "So, Cait Sith, what's this important thing you have to tell us?"

"I'd better let Reeve do the talkin.' And ya should bring everyone else, too." Reno sighed in response, running a hand along his jaw.

"Fine, fine. Let's get everybody together, kay, Fair?"

"Sure thing," Zack replied without much enthusiasm. A knot of dread had settled in the pit of his stomach for reasons he couldn't explain. He had a bad feeling about whatever it was that Cait Sith needed to tell them. Urgent news was rarely good news.

Ten minutes later all of AVALANCHE plus Shera was crowded into Cid's living room. It was a tight fit, and Red was forced to sit on the table in order to see clearly, but somehow they managed. Once everyone had quieted down, Zack stood up to make introductions, knowing he would be better received than Reno.

"Okay guys, this is Cait Sith. He's a robot built by a guy named Reeve back in Shinra who is apparently on our side, and he's got something important to tell us. So listen."

Surprised murmurs ran through the room, and Zack could feel the tension level spike. This was a definite curveball, and not many were reacting well to it.

"Whadda ya mean he's on our side?" Cid demanded, glaring at the cat Zack had perched on his shoulder so everyone could see. Cait Sith clutched his lone shoulder pauldron for balance, while the other hand was tangled deeply in his hair.

Zack glanced at the robot, and noted with some surprise that he had gone absolutely still. Before, he had been fidgety, tugging on Zack's hair and playing with the collar of his shirt, but now there wasn't any movement at all.

"Hey, Cait, you okay up there?" The ex-SOLDIER asked, completely ignoring Cid because arguing with the pilot would get them absolutely nowhere.

"Sorry, I had to switch modes in order to talk to you." An entirely different voice came from Cait Sith, making everyone jump. Zack jerked so hard he nearly pitched the cat off his shoulder.

"Whoa, who're you?" He asked/demanded as soon as he had regained his composure. SOLDIERs were _not _supposed to jump a foot in the air when startled, least of all _First Class _ones.

The Voice chuckled. "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle anyone. I am Reeve."

Reno, the only one who hadn't had a brief seizure, waved casually. "Hey, Reeve."

"Can he see us?" Yuffie whispered to the Turk. Unlike many of the others, the ninja thought this was the coolest thing in the world.

"Yes," Reeve answered, his voice crackling and slightly distorted, as though he was speaking through a walkie-talkie. Which was he _was, _really. It was just cat-shaped and could function on its own. Weird. "The image is not very good, just like I suspect the sound reception is, but I can see you."

"Cool." Yuffie grinned, waving far more enthusiastically than Reno.

Reeve chuckled again, but the levity in the room was brief.

"All right, who're you? And are you really on our side?" Cid continued glaring, more intensely than before.

"Yeah," Tifa agreed. "How do we know this isn't some kind of trap? If you can find us, Shinra can find us."

"Oh c'mon, if he builds cool stuff like Cait Sith, he can't possibly be on Shinra's side." No one quite understood Yuffie's logic, but decided it was best not to call her on it.

"I understand your doubts. But believe me, there are people within Shinra who do not like what the company is doing, and they are willing to provide you aid. We are hoping to work with AVALANCHE to bring down the company."

"How many of you are there?" Barrett echoed Cloud's early question.

"A few. We are not many in number, but we do have power, and resources." It was a vague answer, but better than Reno's. Zack supposed they would have to take what they could get.

Cid clearly didn't agree. "Empty words. They ain't gonna get you far. You've gotta have some sort of proof that you want to help us. Otherwise we ain't gonna waste our time with you."

"True." Reeve seemed unruffled by the accusations and mistrust, but it was hard to tell for sure with only a tinny, distorted voice to judge by. "Very well. We have recently been doing some research on what is happening in Wutai. We believe Shinra is looking for something related to the Ancients." Aerith gasped, leaning forward in her seat slightly. Zack shot her a worried glance, but said nothing.

"Therefore, the answers to the puzzle most likely lie with Professor Gast, who did a great deal of research on the Ancients. Most of this research was lost, however. Yet, we managed to discover that Hojo has been keeping some of it at the Shinra Mansion in Nibelheim. If you go there, you should find the answers. Then, we can work on this end to see what Shinra higher ups are involved in the plot. However, we cannot go any further until we know what research of Gast's Hojo is holding onto. And you are the only ones that can make it to Nibelheim without raising too much suspicion."

Zack felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of cold ice water over his head and the ice had bled through his skin into his veins, freezing everything it touched, even his blood and nerves. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He wasn't even sure he could breathe.

_Nibelheim. _

The very thought of it was enough to make him sick. He could feel his hands start to shake, tremors like miniature earthquakes that would probably rattle his very bones from his skin. The images dancing across his closed eyelids were vivid and searing and insistent, like a river pulling him along toward a vast sea where he would drown.

_Screaming, laughter, tables, restraints digging hard into his skin, needles, mako eyes, laughter, blood, screamingbreakingClouddyingbleeding__**screaming**__… _

…he tamped down on the rising flood, barely stopping it from overwhelming him. When he forced his eyes open, a few worried eyes glanced at him. Reno, Aertih, Cloud, and Tifa—the ones that knew, or thought they knew, or couldn't remember but still _felt _it. He smiled at them shakily. Maybe if he kept on smiling he could convince everyone, and himself, that he was okay, and everything would fine.

But, in truth, he wasn't strong enough. Not for this. He couldn't go back to that horrible place. If he laid eyes on that mansion again the river would finally break free and he would drown once and for all. Even Aerith and AVALANCHE wouldn't be enough to save him. He could walk for miles, run forever, and hold onto life when it tried to give up on him, but he couldn't face the past and conquer it. He was afraid of _ghosts. _

How pathetic was that?

"We're not going," he murmured, glancing up at Reeve/Cait Sith, who was still waiting for his answer. Somehow, his inner meltdown had lasted less than a minute. Time was such a funny thing.

"What?" Reeve seemed genuinely surprised. "Why?"

Zack lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. He wasn't going to tell the truth, not in front of so many people with Reno and Aerith and Cloud's gazes weighing on him. "I don't like that place, and I'm not going back there. I _refuse. _And nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind. Find someone else for your crusade, Reeve. We work alone."

The words were meant to be firm and final, but his voice shook slightly, and he didn't sound as strong as he should have. The room felt oppressive—too many eyes, too many questions, and he couldn't stay. He wasn't strong enough for that, either.

With a shuddering breath, the ex-SOLDIER placed Caith Sith on the floor hurriedly before pivoting and fleeing from the room. Running away again, just like always. Because of _ghosts. _

He was so pathetic.

* * *

Reeve watched Zack Fair flee through Cait Sith's slightly distorted eyes. Even with such a bad connection, it was impossible to miss the emotions brewing in the ex-SOLDIER's eyes. Somehow, Reeve had managed to wander into a minefield. There were secrets here—old and dark and malicious. He didn't know enough about Nibelheim. It had been horrible—a tragedy, the fall of a great hero—but apparently there was more to it than that.

And in his ignorance, Reeve might just have blown any chance at AVALANCHE's cooperation right out of the water.

He could see them shutting down, withdrawing any trust they might have been cultivating. Zack's outburst and adamant refusal had startled them, but they would follow his lead. It was over.

But then the flower girl stood up and gave him a wavering smile.

"Please, give us a little time to decide. This is … difficult, but if it will help the Planet …" she trailed off, then shook her head slightly, as though clearing away lingering traces of an unpleasant memory. "We'll talk to Zack."

Stunned, it took Reeve a great deal of effort to conjure up an answer for her. "Thank you," the head of Urban Development said at last.

The others looked just as shocked, but some of the trust and warmth returned to a few gazes. The last Ancient seemed to hold almost as much power as Fair within their group. "I will contact you again tomorrow morning."

She inclined her head, and looked just like a diplomat or a dignitary instead of a flower girl from the slums in a tattered green skirt and worn-out travel boots. "Very well. We'll have our decision by then."

Reeve cut the connection and leaned back in his chair, mulling over the conversation. Now, he finally understood why even the stoic, loyal Tseng went out of his way to care for Aerith Gainsborough. Why his hard gaze softened when he talked about her. Why Reno smiled a little when her name was mentioned. Why fierce, fiery Elena was so protective of her. Why Rude, and Rod, and Cissnei all vanished into the slums on occasion and returned looking like some of their constant burden had been eased, if only for a little while. Maybe it was her deep green eyes, or the way she carried herself, or the way her smile felt like the sun breaking through the clouds, or maybe it had nothing to do with her at all, but … there was something almost … _magical_ about her. She was radiant, like sunlight itself.

Reeve just hoped Shinra wouldn't take away whatever it was that made her shine.

* * *

Her fist slammed hard into the thick punching bag, creating a large indention in the rough fabric. Gritting her teeth, she pivoted and slammed her leg into bag, feeling it give and sway beneath the ruthless force of her attacks. It still wasn't enough. She wanted to pull out her weapon and rip it to shreds. She wanted to completely _destroy _something, if only for a way to channel some of the emotions tearing her up inside like restless blades.

Zack Fair was alive.

She had known that for months now—remembered sinking to her knees in the privacy of her room and allowing tears of relief to stream down her cheeks, laughing and sobbing and wondering why she had ever doubted him because he was _Zack _and he could do anything, even cheat death. In those quiet moments, she had felt alive, and some of the burden disappeared. Zack was alive and whole out there somewhere, and she hadn't let him die, after all. Maybe, he'd even reunited with the flower girl he loved so much (and _that _hurt a little, but if he was happy it was good enough for her.)

But now she was facing the same dilemma as before: the aching, desperate pull between duty and love.

Zack Fair was alive, but the president wanted to change that as soon as possible. He blamed the Turks for letting the rebellious ex-SOLDIER live, and word that Zack was the new leader of AVALANCHE only incensed him further. He wanted Zack killed _now. _And he had ordered his Turks to do it. This time, there would be no loopholes. If they sided with Zack they would be killed. He was no longer just a failed experiment on the run, he was dangerous—a force that had the power to damage the company beyond repair.

_Oh, Zack… _

She couldn't kill him. She'd already decided that. She _loved _him, and she would rather face her own death than cause his.

With a scream of frustration, Cissnei attacked the punching bag like a wild animal. Punches and kicks flew at a frenzied pace, lacking precision or finesse. It still wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She was splitting in two and she didn't know which side to choose.

Panting, the female Turk leaning her forehead against the battered punching bag. She wanted to cry, but she was too strong for that. Instead, she focused her attention away from her own problems to the figure in the doorway.

"How long do you plan on standing there?"

In response to the accusation, the intruder stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the dim practice room. "I was waiting for you to finish." Cissnei bristled at the clipped, familiar tone. Elena always set her nerves on edge more than any of her fellow Turks, even the Director. She wasn't sure what it was about the other female—perhaps the competition, perhaps how cold and distant Elena often was, perhaps because she knew Elena was a better Turk than she would ever be.

"Well, I'm done. What do you want?"

To her surprise, Elena smiled. It was a strange expression—a thin quirk of her lips that looked both sad and smug. "I have a proposition for you."

"What?" Cissnei tried to ignore the feeling that something was about to change, that _everything _was about to change.

Elena canted her head toward the open door behind her. "Not here. Let's go talk somewhere more private."

Curiosity burning in her veins, Cissnei nodded and followed the other Turk from the practice room, leaving her grief over Zack Fair and a worn punching bag behind.

* * *

The brittle tree cracked from the force of Zack's boot, bending backward in almost defeat. Zack snarled low in his throat, wanting the tree to break full in half. The stupid thing was being defiant. His fist punched clean through the bark, and he ignored the shards of wood slicing his skin. When he wrenched his hand from the ruined, but still-standing tree small rivulets of red trailed down his skin from torn knuckles. He watched the blood glint in the moonlight and slowly drip from his hand to the soft forest floor below. The sight was absurdly fascinating. Had blood always been such a vibrant red? Hissing, he shook himself free from his stupor and slammed his fist into the tree again. Pain sliced hot through his hand and wood creaked and groaned in protest, but the tree still did not give in.

Zack laughed. He was a First Class SOLDIER, on the level of Angeal, Genesis, and _Sephiroth, _and he couldn't even defeat a tree. The laughter turned hysterical and his fingers scrabbled for purchase against the bark as he legs suddenly decided to stop working.

All he could see was Nibelheim. When he closed his eyes he was back in that accursed tube watching them slice into his best friend on the table. He couldn't see past it, and he was breaking because of it, even though he _shouldn't _be. He was stronger than this. Right?

"What is it with you and trees?" The dry, mocking voice startled him and he pivoted immediately, lashing out at the newcomer. His heel hit hard against a blocking forearm, eliciting a hiss of pain, and he pressed his advantage by pushing against the arm. The intruder gave ground—two shaky steps—before retaliating with a sweep at Zack's leg. Zack growled softly and dodged, bringing his fist back with the intention of breaking the shadow's face.

"Fair, stop! It's me." He froze mid-punch as the voice finally registered.

Zack backpedaled rapidly, putting a little distance between him and the other. "Reno?" He could barely make out the light blue eyes, glowing with the faintest traces of mako, and pale skin in the wan moonlight.

Reno rubbed his arm and offered him a thin smile. "The one and only."

Zack swore softly. "Gah! Why did you have to dye your hair? I don't recognize you."

Reno chuckled wryly. "Well, I guess it's working, then."

Zack sighed and tugged on his hair harshly. The ghost of Nibelheim was still there, tearing at him with sharp nails. He felt agitated, angry, scared, and off-balance. The last thing he needed was human interaction, especially with Reno, who was a far cry from Aerith's soothing presence. But he didn't want Aerith seeing him like this. He didn't want _anyone _to see him like this.

"Go away," Zack ordered, waving his hand in the general direction of Rocket Town. "I don't want to talk to anyone, right now."

Reno leaned against one of the trees, and shook his head firmly. "No. You may not want to talk to anyone, but you need to, Zack."

"Since when did you become some kind of therapist?" Zack spat. Maybe he _should _break Reno's face, though he doubted the ex-Turk would let him. It was amazing he'd gotten one blow in. It was infuriating. Why was Reno choosing _now _of all times to grow a heart? He had never cared before.

"I'm not. Truth is, Aerith asked me to come out here and talk to you. She seems to think I would 'understand' you because we were both in Shinra." Reno rolled his eyes dramatically. "I don't know where she got _that _idea."

Zack's fingernails carved crescents into his palm. "Me neither. So you can leave."

Reno's expression turned serious and he pushed off of the tree, venturing closer to Zack like one would approach a lion or a bear—with caution and the expectation of attack. Good, he _should _be afraid. Right now, it was hard for Zack to keep himself from becoming violent. "No. I owe Flower Girl. And, Fair, I might understand, just a little."

"Have you ever been _experimented_ on?!" Zack exploded, fighting back the urge to attack Reno. How dare he come here acting like he cared, like he _knew _what it was like?

"No." Reno's whisper was a sharp contrast to Zack's roar. "But I was strapped to a table and my face was cut open. I was also tortured with an EMR. All because I failed two missions in a row. Don't you just _love _Heidegger?" The bitterness was like a knife cutting through the air. Zack could almost feel it dig into him.

"Oh," he murmured. "They … really did that to you?" He had seen the cuts on Reno's face, all those years ago, but never knew their origin, and it was better not to pry when it came to the Turks. Maybe … he had been wrong, just a little. It wasn't five years, and it wasn't even close to the hell he and Cloud had suffered, but it was something.

"Yeah." Reno looked away, shoulders rigid. "Yeah. They did. So you know, Fair, you aren't the only to get screwed over by Shinra. Lots of people got it worse off than you. I should know." A scathing laugh chilled the air between them. "I helped hurt a lot of them. Even killed a few. At least you're alive and Cloud's alive and you found your girl."

Reno lunged suddenly and latched onto the front of Zack's sweater, startling the ex-SOLDIER badly. He tried to get loose, but Reno held on tight, curling his fingers into the fabric to keep Zack in place. "You need to stop _running, _Fair." Reno's blue eyes bore into his own, seeing into him and through him and it was frightening, but he refused to look away. Reno had always possessed a strange intensity he rarely displayed, but when he did it was nearly overwhelming. "You're better than this. If you ever want to move past this, you have to turn around and face it. Those labs can't hurt you anymore."

"But Cloud—"

"Has to make his own choices. You can't keep him from this forever, Fair. You have to let him go, Let him remember. Sure it won't be fun, or pleasant, or even a walk in the park, but he's got you, right? So stop using him as an excuse."

Zack swallowed thickly, closing his eyes. He could still see Nibelheim there, still feel mako running across his skin, still hear screaming and crying. How could Reno ask him to just move past it? Every time he thought he had, it dragged him back again—kicking and screaming but never strong enough to fight it.

"How?" He choked out. "How do expect me to just get over it? It was five years of the worst hell you can imagine."

"You go back." Reno gave him a small but forceful shake. "You go into those labs and you figure out why those things were done to you. You go out there and find Hojo and slice him into pieces so small you could feed them to the fish in the president's pond. Why do you think I fight with an EMR even though I was tortured with it, Fair?"

Zack recoiled as though Reno had struck him. The words got under his skin and chipped ruthlessly away at his reasoning. In the face of such blunt accusations, his fear held no validity. Could he really go back down into those labs and face the past? He thought again about the mako cage and the death and Hojo's never-ending laughter, and for the first time in a long time fury instead of fear and sadness swelled in him from the images. Yes, maybe he could. Laughter bubbled in his throat, hysterical and freeing at the same time.

He bent over slightly in Reno's grip and struggled to keep it all inside. He didn't know what to feel anymore. But, hey, that might just be alright. He would decide how he felt about all this later. For now, he would focus on finding that courage he had lost somewhere since getting shot on the cliffs outside of Midgar.

"Okay," he muttered with a hiccupping laugh. "Okay. We'll go to Nibelheim and help stupid Reeve on his stupid mission. Happy now?"

Reno offered a dry smile as he released him, patting him on the shoulder lightly. "I'm only happy after I've had alcohol."

Zack's answering laugh was a little more real, but just as brief. "Thanks, Reno."

Reno shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Don't mention it. Ever. Besides, I was just doing Aerith a favor. No one can say no to her."

"No kidding." The two men stepped apart. For now, they would both pretend this little heart-to-heart had never happened.

Reno turned away with a jaunty wave. "Later, Zack."

Zack watched the shadows swallow him in silence. Once he was alone in the forest again, he glanced back at the tree he had tried to crush. It was still standing, gallantly reaching its bent limbs toward the sky. He reached for it—this time gently running his fingers over the bark. Maybe he was like the tree, after all. Battered and wounded but alive and grasping for more, refusing to bow down beneath the weight of his afflictions. The ex-SOLDIER stepped back with a self-deprecating laugh and a shake of his head.

When had he become so philosophical?

* * *

_The world is still and silent, perfect darkness. It touches him and rolls around him and through him, cool fingers sliding across his skin. He knows this place and doesn't, wants to run but cannot. Something important is waiting here, beyond the oppressive shadows. He needs to find it and that need urges him forward, causing his feet to shuffle along the hidden floor. The shadows grasp at him, trying to keep him from going. They don't want him to find it, but he __**needs **__to, so he fights them with everything he has. _

_At last he's standing in front of the broken mirror. The cracks spiderweb across the glass, slicing through his features and dividing him up. He should be afraid. He has been every other time he stood in front of the mirror. The green, poisonous eyes are waiting to consume him. But he's not afraid. Not this time._

_Why be afraid of your own eyes? _

_This mirror has the answers. It's holding them captive, beneath the cracks and the rough glass. If only he could find a way to get past the glass. Once he breaches the barrier he knows he will be able to hold them in his hand and finally understand everything he's missing. But even though the glass is fragile it is strong and he can't break it even when he pounds on it with both fists until his knuckles spill red all over the clear surface. _

_Gasping, he stops his fight and presses both palms against the glass instead. Images bubble to the surface like swimmers coming up for air. Fire licks at his palms and screams rip their way free. He feels angry and satisfied and horrified and saddened, but before he can decide which is right, the sensations fade. Everything moves fast now, each image lasting a blink and a breath before fading away into nothingness. _

_Dark rooms with tables and restraints and needles glinting in dim light. _

_Mountains reaching for the sky but always falling short. _

_A vast jungle stretching on as far as the eye can see, full of screams and blood and death. _

_A small cadet snapping to attention, blue eyes wide and awed but somehow sympathetic, and why does he __**look **__at him that way? No one else has. _

_A man with long silver hair like a curtain down his back and a wicked sword that strikes fear into the hearts of all who faced it. Who has been called a monster and a demon but is really just a man disconnected from the world, and he can understand, a little. _

_He wrenches himself from the mirror, gasping, and the eyes fill them. Those green eyes. But now they don't look poisonous, merely inquisitive. _

"_Who are you?" The face in the mirror asks that is him and isn't and he doesn't know which. _

"_I'm you," he murmurs, because that is the one thing he knows for certain. Or does he? Everything is backwards here, and upside down, not right. _

"_You are?" The voice sounds like his own, but different—scathing in a way his has never been. "Are you sure?" _

"_Yes," he whispers and means it but doesn't. _

"_How do you know?" The face presses, green eyes stripping him bare. _

"_I don't." He curls his hands into fists and glares back at the eyes, daring them to challenge him. _

_They do. "Well, you had better make sure, right? Before it's too late. You're running out of time." _

_Before he can ask what the apparition means, the mirror shatters into a thousand tiny shards that bite hard into his skin.

* * *

_

Cloud wrapped his arms around himself as he slipped from the house, feeling the cold night wind bite into his face. The dream still lingered, but no matter how many ways he looked at it, he still couldn't determine what it meant. He was hoping movement would help clear his troubled mind. His feet shuffled along the dirt path toward the bright hanger lights in the distance. Most of the Shinra personnel had vacated the city long ago, and those that remained were too loyal to Cid to ever speak a word of AVALANCHE's presence. For the first time in a while, he could wander freely.

The most worrisome part of the dream was the two figures he had seen in the mirror. He was fairly certain the cadet had been himself. Right? Then, who exactly was the man with the silver hair and the beautiful but deadly sword that sung when he wielded it? He couldn't remember and it infuriated him to no end. He _needed _to remember. If he did, he would know for certain that the man wasn't somehow _him. _

Cloud stopped suddenly, blinking in surprise at the figure standing on the path ahead. She was facing away from him, head tilted toward the sky, and the hanger lights shimmered in her long hair. For the first time it was free, cascading down her back in a black stream. It was longer than he'd thought, touching her hips.

"Tifa?" He murmured hesitantly. He probably shouldn't be interrupting her, but he couldn't bring himself to just turn and walk away. Maybe human interaction would help him escape the thoughts circling endlessly through his head.

She glanced over her shoulder at him in surprise, but her features quickly morphed into a slightly pleased look. Could she possibly be happy to see him?

"Cloud? What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same of you." He approached her slowly, still torn between fleeing and falling into her arms in hope she could chase some of the persistent ghosts away.

Her smile held an edge of bitterness. "I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I couldn't sleep either." His shoulder knocked gently against hers as he stopped next to her, and realizing his proximity he swiftly backed up a step.

An undeniable emotion flashed across her eyes, before fading behind cautious worry. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," he said a little more defensively than he'd intended. "What about you? Why couldn't you sleep?"

She shook her head, looking away toward the massive hangers. "Nibelheim still does strange things to me."

"Something horrible happened there, didn't it?" He had to ask. There was a chance, however small, that Tifa would be less vague than Zack.

"Do you remember?" She seemed almost wildly hopeful and it threw him off guard. He didn't want to disappoint her but he couldn't lie. Not to her.

"No. I just have … feelings." At her puzzled look he rushed to elaborate. "I can't … really explain it. I just … _feel _certain things. About Nibelheim. And Shinra." He waved a hand helplessly. "But nothing's … concrete."

"I see." Tifa's frown suggested that she didn't really understand, but Cloud hadn't expected her to.

"Why do you hate it so much?" He questioned desperately. "Why does it make Zack break every time he hears about it? What _happened _there?"

Tifa took a deep breath and stepped forward. Cloud tensed when she gently brushed her fingers through his bangs. "Everything … ended. My life. The lives of so many people. It was a tragedy." She lowered her eyes and dropped her hand. He missed the warmth of her touch. "Maybe it _is _better if you don't remember."

Something inside of him snapped at her quiet words. With a frustrated hiss, he grabbed her arms and pushed her away from him. "Why do you always say that? You and Zack keep _saying _that. What gives you the right to decide? What makes you think you can keep my memories from me?" Her eyes were huge in her face, staring at him with shock and more than a little apprehension. A part of him felt sorry for scaring her, but it was only a small part. The rest was too busy coming apart. He couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to.

"This is my _life. _How would you feel if you couldn't remember _anything? _If every morning you looked at your face in the mirror and saw a complete stranger looking back at you? And the people around you _know _everything you _need _but they refuse to tell you. Because they're too scared to face their own past." She flinched and guilt overrode all the other emotion in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want apologies or excuses or attempts at comfort, only the truth.

The one thing they wouldn't give him.

With a shake of his head, he turned and ran, leaving her standing stunned in the middle of the road, hand outstretched. He regretted ever entering a conversation with her. He had been wrong to hope, wrong to trust. She was just like Zack, too afraid to move on. He would have to discover the truth on his own, no matter how long and painful the process was.

"Cloud!" He sped up at the sound of her voice, refusing to look back.

She didn't chase him. And he didn't know why that disappointed him, but it did.

* * *

AVALANCHE assembled in Cid's living room the following morning, taking up the same positions they had occupied the night before. Cait Sith stood precariously on the back of a chair, wringing his hands nervously. Tension hummed thick in the room and Zack felt its weight on his shoulders as he stood facing the agitated cat.

"Are ya ready?" Cait Sith asked after a long moment of silence.

"Yes," Zack said without hesitation. He had found a small part of his former courage and he was hanging onto it desperately. He could do this. He _could… _

Cait Sith went still and Reeve's voice trickled from the speakers, laced with static but still unmistakable. "Zack, have you made your decision?" He sounded calm, but Zack could hear faint undercurrents of anxiousness.

"Yeah. We'll go." Silence descended again in the aftermath of his answer, then everyone began speaking at once, expressing either shock, horror, or excitement. Zack tuned them out, knowing they would follow his lead. Everyone was captivated by the mystery, and the chance to put a stop to Shinra's secret affairs. Only Tifa looked betrayed, and he avoided making eye contact with her, feeling horrible for forcing this choice on her without her consent. But she needed this as much as he did, and she would come to see that in time. He hoped. Cloud was the only other one to remain silent and when Zack risked a sideways glance at his best friend, he was taken aback by the cold emptiness staring back at him.

Something was wrong. Cloud hadn't looked at him like that in years. But now wasn't the time to press the blond for answers. Reeve was trying to speak above the din.

"Good. I am pleased you've decided to go through with this. How long will it take you to reach Nibelheim?"

Zack shot a questioning look at Cid. The pilot would know better than any of them. Cid grunted and chewed thoughtfully on his ever-present toothpick. "Hmm. Depends. With an airship, a couple of hours. Without one, a couple of days."

"Can we risk air travel?" Red asked, glancing back and forth between Cid and Zack.

"I vote no on the air travel," Yuffie added with a grimace. Everyone else shuddered, remembering the helicopter incident all too vividly.

Cid shrugged. "Probably better not to risk it for now. We can take chocobos. That'll be a little faster."

"Great," Barrett grumbled. "I hate those stupid birds."

Zack clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "Alright, it's settled. We leave for Nibelheim tonight."

"Contact me when you get there," Reeve instructed. "Reno knows how." Cait Sith gave a little jerk then sprung to life again.

"Alright, isn't this excitin'!" Zack smiled in amusement. The shift would take a little getting used to.

As everyone split up to either gather supplies or finish up a few jobs for Shera around the property, Zack shouldered his way through the small crowd to Cloud's side. "Hey, buddy, you doin' okay? You don't look too good."

Cloud's gaze was chilling and his voice carried no inflection. "I'm fine." He pushed past Zack and slipped out the door before the ex-SOLDIER could stop him.

Baffled and alarmed, Zack's stunned eyes found Tifa. She quickly looked away, but not before he saw the shame and guilt lurking in her wine-colored orbs. The dread returned, settling like a rock in his stomach, and he felt all of the courage and confidence he had gathered slipping away like water over rocks.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.

* * *

**Coming up next--**a town, a tragedy, and the ghosts of the past.


	34. XXXI: A Lie With a Veneer Shine

**Well, it has been an age but I live! I'm terribly sorry it has been so long. And that I've only managed to produce a relatively short chapter for you guys. I'm a failure at updating and doing school at the same time because I have this nasty tendency to over-involve myself and chew up all my free time. And when I _do_ have free time I don't have enough energy to string two thoughts together so writing is a definite no-go. But, I had a break and so here is an update! (That rhymed, aren't I amazing?) **

**I also apologize in advance for the possibly/probably terrible fight scene. Just be prepared for my lack of skills in that area. **

**I hope you all enjoy my poor excuse of an update. The next one shall definitely come faster since my uber long break is coming up in two weeks. **

**Oh, and if there are any of you left, please review! **

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* * *

  
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"_Psst, _Cloud, wake up." Hands shook him, but he was already awake. Every time he closed his eyes nightmares swam to the surface and sunk their claws into his heart.

He hadn't slept in two days. Not that he was going to tell Zack that.

"Zack," he mumbled, blinking up at his friend in the dark. Zack's eyes glowed faintly, like blue fireflies against the backdrop of a black forest. The sight was haunting, and Cloud wondered if Zack saw the same kind of thing reflected back at him. The eyes hovering over him were anxious and worried, tense around the edges in the same way they had been since Reeve's call.

Cloud wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel.

"Get up," Zack whispered, and cool air brushed Cloud's face as his friend gestured, pulling a little at his sleeping roll and shirt. "We need to talk."

"Really?" Cloud muttered darkly, and he refused to admit he enjoyed the way Zack flinched at the icy tone. "Are you going to give me some answers now, Zack?"

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to rub salt into the bleeding wounds he knew Zack hid behind his smile. But he couldn't muster the energy. He was tired of the lies and the half-truths and the vague answers. He was tired of living with fragments of two lives that fit and _didn't. _

He was just tired of everything.

"Yes," Zack replied after a long pause. He gaze looked pained, but there was something new there. Something Cloud almost remembered, but hadn't seen in a long time. It looked a lot like courage. "All the answers. Just come with me."

Warily, Cloud wormed his way out of his sleeping bag and trudged after Zack into the somber forest. They were only two days from Nibelheim and everything seemed grayer the closer they got to the mountain town. Tomorrow they would begin their ascent into the mountains that loomed on the horizon, towering over the forest. After that, there was no turning back. No one was speaking anymore, just trading sharp glances and frowns—eyes straying to the distant mountains every few minutes as though drawn by a magnet. It felt like the calm before the storm—the moment of breathless fear before the glass shattered on the floor.

Something was about to break.

Cloud shuddered slightly and ducked to avoid getting smacked in the face by a low hanging branch. Sticks cracked beneath their boots as they trudged deeper into the woods, and the sound seemed unnaturally loud in the tense stillness.

Zack finally stopped in a small clearing littered with ferns. "This seems like a good place." He let out a long sigh and sank to the ground, sitting Indian style amongst the plants. When Cloud didn't move, he patted the dirt across from him. "Have a seat, buddy. We could be here awhile."

Cloud mirrored his position, feeling a mixture of dread and excitement. This was it. The moment the glass shattered; the moment he broke through the mirror and finally lined the fragments up.

"So, you're going to tell me?"

Zack nodded. He looked old in the dim light, but the strength hadn't wavered. "Yeah. I'm so sorry I've kept it from you this long. I … I should have told you, Spike. I shouldn't have kept it from you because I was afraid." His teeth gleamed briefly as he offered a thin smile, but it didn't push any of the shadows from his eyes. "So … ask away. Any question, I'll answer."

Cloud felt dizzy with the power suddenly placed in his hands. At last, here was the truth, right in front of him. It was overwhelming. But one question stood out in his mind—strange and irrelevant to the ghosts waiting for him in Nibelheim, but no less important. For some reason, it had to come first, before they made the descent into the dark. "Would you still have told me if we didn't have to go to Nibelheim?"

Zack cocked his head in bemusement. "What kind of question is that?"

"I need to know," Cloud insisted, leaning forward as though he could keep Zack from running with his gaze alone. "I need to know that you're doing this because you feel it's right, not because we're going to Nibelheim and you don't want me to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the mission."

"I would have told you." There was no hesitation, no lie, and Cloud felt a little of his trust in Zack return.

"Good." He paused and the question hung between them—the one they both knew he was going to ask. It might have been the only one that mattered. At last, with a deep breath, it came. "What happened in Nibelheim?"

Zack tensed, and this was the moment of truth. Cloud watched with baited breath as his friend steeled something inside of himself and finally took the plunge. "Sephiroth happened."

"Sephiroth?" Cloud repeated. He should know that name—he could feel it—but the face that should have accompanied it remained blurry.

"He was the General—leader of all Shinra's military forces. The greatest SOLDIER in history. He was so powerful that some said he wasn't even human." Zack idly picked at some of the weeds poking through the soil between them. With his eyes lowered it was difficult to know what he was thinking or feeling, but Cloud picked up traces of regret lingering beneath the forced calm filling his words. "He certainly didn't _look _human, you know. Silver hair and the greenest eyes I've ever seen. He towered over even _me _and his sword was at least six feet long and sang when it moved."

Cloud felt like he had been punched in the gut. A breathless rush of air escaped him and he could almost feel the blood draining from his face. The mirror, the face—it had been _Sephiroth? _

_"Who are you?" _

_ "I'm you." _

"You okay, Cloud?" Zack's eyes were on him now and Cloud realized he must have gasped loud enough for the other man to hear. He shook his head, waving a hand in dismissal.

"I'm fine. Just remembering. Keep going."

Zack appeared skeptical, but let the issue slide. Cloud had never been more grateful. "Anyway, he didn't _look _human but he _was. _He was a good man, when I knew him. We were friends, or so I thought. Then, we went on a mission to chase monsters out of Nibelheim. I dragged you along. You were one of only two cadets to accompany us. I convinced you it was an honor." A bitter chuckle chilled the space between them, forcing Cloud to suppress a shiver. It sounded unnatural coming from Zack. "What a joke. We were only there for about day before Sephiroth started acting strangely."

Cloud felt cold again—so very cold.

_"How does it feel? It's your first time coming back to your hometown in a long time, right?" _

_**It hurts. So much. **_

_ "So, how does it feel?" _

_**You don't want to know. I hate this place**__. _

_ "I wouldn't know because I don't have a hometown." _

_**You're lucky**__. "Umm … what about your parents?" __**No, I shouldn't ask you that. I have no right, do I? Now, you'll probably be mad at me. **_

_ "Well, my mother died giving birth to me. My father…" __**Hurt you too, didn't he?**__ "…what does it matter?" _

_**It matters. Sometimes, it matters too much. **_

"…holed himself up in the Shinra Mansion for days. Just pouring over Hojo's old books. I was worried. Really worried. I could feel something _off._ It was like … waiting for a storm. I just felt all this dread like a huge rock in my stomach. I was holding my breath, waiting for something to break. We all were."

_"Ugh. We have to do something! Something's wrong with him." _

_ "What do you think we should do?" _

_ "I don't _know, _Spike. That's just it. I don't know." _

_**Book after book after book—all saying the same thing. Experiments. Atrocities. Monsters. They all said the same words, over and over. So did that make them true? **_

_"I'm going to try talking to him." _

_ "Are you sure that's a good idea?" _

_ "No, but I can't just leave him like this. I have to try something, right?" _

_**Born a monster—an abomination. Created by a curious scientist's hands. That was the truth. The truth they'd all kept from him. They'd **_**lied **_**to him. All of them. How could they? **_

_"How did it go?" _

_ "Not good. He threw me out. I've never seen him that angry." _

_ "This isn't good, Zack." _

_ "I know, I know. _

_ "Maybe we should leave." _

_ "I think we're too late for that, Spike." _

_**They had tried their hand at being God—creating human life. He was born as nothing more than an experiment. Unwanted and unloved, and he had always known that to a certain degree. So why did seeing it here, painted in cold black and white, hurt so much? They had lied to him, used him, and for that they were going to **_**pay. **

Cloud lurched to his feet with a heaving gasp, one hand clutching a fistful of a hair. He wanted to force the images out of his head. They didn't make sense—two completely separate lives, moving in tandem with each other. His and … Sephiroth's? But that shouldn't be possible, right?

"Cloud?" Zack had followed him, was placing a gentle hand on his back as he struggled to calm down. "You don't look too good, buddy. Maybe we should slow down."

Zack's worried eyes filled his vision when he turned his head. It took a moment to realize that his breaths were coming in short, staccato gasps, and he was probably only a minute or so away from hyperventilating. The fingers against his back were shaking—not hard, but enough for him to notice. This was hurting Zack, too—a lot more than he was letting on. Why was this so hard? Had the wounds from Nibelheim really been ripped that deep? Apparently, they had. Apparently, they had cut clean across their souls.

"Yeah," Cloud heaved at last, running a shaky hand across his mouth. "Memories are coming faster than I thought they would." He didn't say they were two different sets of memories. Zack couldn't know that—not yet.

"Okay. Just breathe a minute. We've got time."

Cloud shook his head. "No, we don't. Not anymore. Keep going. I'll be okay."

Zack hesitated, and Cloud couldn't help but wonder if _Zack _needed to slow down. Telling was just as difficult as hearing—he wasn't the only one reliving this. Feeling regretful, Cloud got ready to offer an amendment of his earlier demand that they continue, but before he could, Zack drew himself up again, and plunged further.

Down they went. Into the dark.

* * *

Aerith couldn't take her eyes off the sleeping forest. Somewhere in the shelter of those trees, Zack and Cloud were breaking tonight—breaking together so they could finally move on. She had heard them leave and watched their shadows vanish into the trees through one open eye. Now she stood at the edge of the camp, keeping watch until they returned—Barrett, Cid, and Yuffie's snores providing a small sense of security and comfort.

They were going to need her—something within her knew that for certain. Maybe not tonight, or even tomorrow, but someday—someday they were going to need her and she was going to be ready. A chill wind swept through the camp, trying to dig into her skin through her jacket. The flower girl shivered against the assault and glanced up at the mountains as the wind rushed away toward them.

They were ominous, taller than any building she had ever seen. From where she stood, it almost seemed as though they were linking arms with the sky. The truth lay hidden in those mountains. She could feel that, too. And not just the truth about Zack and Cloud, but about everything.

"Aerith?"

Aerith jumped slightly, surprised at the sound of her own name. She hadn't expected anyone else to be up. It had been a long day of travel and the others were exhausted. Turning, the flower girl saw Tifa walking towards her and wasn't terribly surprised. Out of all them, Tifa had the best reason to be losing sleep. "Tifa. You're up late."

"So are you," Tifa replied dryly, stopping beside her. The warrior crossed her arms and tried to look casual. "Zack and Cloud are gone."

Aerith sighed softly. "Yes. They left awhile ago."

"Zack's telling Cloud, isn't he?" The fake casualness evaporated from Tifa's voice, but in it's wake were a blend of emotions Aerith couldn't decipher.

"Yes. He is."

Tifa slumped, rubbing a tired hand through her bangs. "That's good, I suppose."

"It is," Aerith replied firmly. "They need this—both of them." She paused, fingering her skirt as she struggled to put all the feelings churning inside of her into words. "I think … we're all going to need each other for this. Otherwise … we won't get through. Things are going to get harder from here on out."

"Like they haven't been hard enough," Tifa muttered—brown eyes on the mountains, roaming over them with a gaze that held none of Aerith's earlier awe.

Aerith shrugged, feeling a tired smile growing unbidden on her face. "No one ever said life was easy."

Tifa laughed enough to warm Aerith's healer's heart. "True, I suppose. But a break every now and then would be nice."

"Yes," Aerith agreed, thinking about a beach in Costa del Sol and Zack's lips on hers—a special moment that seemed like a lifetime ago. "It would."

A contented silence descended as the two woman looked at the mountains, the forest, the stars, and maybe the past. Tifa bent slowly and plucked a long blade of glass from the earth, twirling it between her fingertips. "Maybe … my turn will be coming soon. To tell Cloud the truth."

Aerith watched the grass spin in Tifa's grip—pirouetting like a ballerina—then trailed up to her friend's apprehensive gaze. "Whatever you have to tell him won't make him stop caring about you."

"How can you be sure?" Tifa asked, keeping her eyes on the small, green blade in her hand. "You don't know what I have to say."

"But I know Cloud. And I know you." Tifa glanced up at Aerith's insistent tone and the determination in bright green eyes brought a weak smile to her lips.

"Thanks, Aerith."

Aerith returned the smile and turned back to the forest. "Your Welcome. Now, I suppose we should get some sleep."

"I suppose." Tifa echoed, but neither girl moved—a deep-hidden worry keeping their feet planted on the edge of the camp and their eyes on the dark trees.

* * *

"We were _experimented _on?!" Even as the exclamation tore past Cloud's lips, he felt that he shouldn't be surprised. Experimentation explained a lot—maybe even this whole two-life enigma.

And when he closed his eyes he could feel cold tables and needles and hear laughter that went on and on forever, rising above the pain to suffocate him in its cruelty.

_**"My greatest specimen." **_

_ "You will be just like him. I can bring him back. I can…" _

"Yeah." Zack took a shaky breath, watching Cloud for any signs of breaking. His friend seemed to be taking this remarkably well, but there were still subtle flinches and hints of shock impossible to completely disguise. "Mostly you, though. My body didn't react the way Hojo wanted so after awhile he left me to rot."

"But … you broke us out?"

_**Shattering glass, screams, secure arms around him promising safety too late to matter. **_

_ Striding away from the lab, unheeding to the man yelling behind him; the man meant nothing and never would and he would never, ever come back here again. _

Zack nodded. "Yeah. I still don't even know how." He raked a hand through his hair and chuckled in disbelief. "I was so out of it I could barely walk and I was hallucinating so badly I thought Nibelheim looked just like it had before, but somehow I managed to fight off the guards and get us out of there." He shrugged and Cloud thought the gesture was too casual for the feat his friend had managed to pull off. "Maybe the Planet was on our side, or something."

"Maybe." Or maybe it was just _Zack—_who never gave up and moved mountains through sheer force of will.

"Anyway, you pretty much know the rest. We were on the run for almost a year and then I got shot outside of Midgar and you carried me into the city."

Zack was watching him carefully and Cloud knew he was looking for cracks in the armor—some sign that this was affecting him. In truth, it wasn't. He felt numb, as though he was looking at someone else's life and sympathizing with their pain. Maybe it was that he simply didn't have _time _to allow himself to shatter. He would bury it until he had a few moments to take out all the pain and let it sink into him, change him. It wasn't exactly healthy, but it had to do.

When he finally let it affect him, though, he would probably have a breakdown like no other. Better not to think about that.

"How are you doing, buddy? I know this is a lot to take in." Zack's eyes were worried and Cloud tried to cobble together a reassuring smile on his face.

"I'm okay. It hasn't really hit me yet." He kept his tone as light as possible, but Zack's gaze still darkened in turbulent understanding.

"Well, I'll be here for you when it does," he said fervently.

Cloud wondered if Zack would say the same thing when he found out Sephiroth's memories were floating around in his head.

* * *

They got back to camp just as the sun was stretching awake over the mountains. Aerith and Tifa were crouched over the flickering fire, coaxing it back to life, while the rest packed up the camp. Yuffie spotted them first and nearly knocked Cid over with her exuberant wave.

"Hey guys! Where have you been? I heard you get up but I thought you were just going to the bathroom or something." Cid scowled at the bouncy ninja as Zack let himself laugh, ambling over to the them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tifa make a beeline for Cloud. Good. He'd noticed a strange tension between them yesterday. Maybe they would work it out.

Tifa stopped hesitantly in front of Cloud, feeling the weight of his inquisitive gaze on her. "I'm sorry," she blurted after a moment of awkward silence. "I should tell you what you need to know. I can now, if you want."

Cloud shook his head. "No. I think I've had enough for now." He motioned in Zack's direction where the ex-SOLDIER was trying to break up an argument between Reno and Barrett while Cid laughed, Red looked annoyed, and Yuffie cheered them on.

Tifa chuckled quietly at the chaos, but turned back quickly when Cloud tapped her on the arm. "Tifa … I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier." The blond moved his hand to her arm and let it hover a few centimeters above her skin, as though held back by some invisible force. "And I'm sorry about your home," he added softly without making eye contact.

Tifa swallowed thickly and, before she could reconsider, wrapped her arms around him, knotting her fingers in his coarse sweater. He stilled immediately and she could imagine his eyes widening. But after a moment he sighed against her skin and the tension bled out of him. A trill of elation ran through her when she felt his hands slide up to rest gently against her back.

"Silly," she whispered into his ear, "it was your home, too."

They stepped apart but he kept his hands diffidently on her shoulders. "No. I don't think it was. Not really…."

She smiled ruefully. "Perhaps, you're right."

Across the camp, Aerith watched the pair with a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. A shadow fell across her face, obscuring the sun, and when she lifted her head she saw familiar blue eyes staring down at her.

"I see you settled the fight," she quipped as Zack crouched down next to her, poking at the flames with a stick from the kindle pile.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yeah. Hopefully those two won't kill each other before this whole thing's over." In spite of his cheerful tone she could hear the weariness and pain leaking through.

Without thinking, she placed a hand on his forearm. He glanced down at it then back up at her with a question flickering in his eyes. "You did the right thing."

"Did I?" he asked wearily, rubbing his jaw where a hint of stubble was breaking the surface of his normally smooth skin. "He doesn't seem any better."

She nodded, moving her hand from his arm to cup his cheek. "You did. These things take time."

"So they say," Zack sighed. "Now, I just have to tell everyone else." He grimaced at the thought and glanced around at the bustling camp. Aerith ran her fingers through his hair reassuringly.

"I'm here for you."

His smile was a little wobbly but he still leaned in and kissed her almost desperately. She understood and let him, even if it was a little rougher than usual. He was cracking from the pressure and needed a small distraction from everything tearing away at him.

"You can do this," she whispered when they pulled apart.

He nodded in response and stood slowly. She squeezed his hand once before letting him go, into the middle of the camp. She watched him take a deep breath and settle himself, throwing his shoulders back and looking like the man who fell through her roof and called her an angel.

"Hey, everybody!" The noise trickled to a stop at the forceful yell and every head in the camp turn to glance at Zack, who coughed in embarrassment before gathering his confidence again. "As you all know, we'll be reaching Nibelheim by tomorrow morning … and I think there's some things you should know before we go there. So, if everyone could take a seat. We might be here awhile…"

They gathered in a circle, questioning eyes boring into him—through him, and it was terrifying. But he delved into the well of courage hiding within him and took the plunge once more.

Hopefully, it would be for the last time.

* * *

It was the same. Exactly the same, not a board out of place.

Zack rubbed his eyes and looked again, just to be sure. Yep, still the same. He contemplated pinching himself, but if the shocked looks on everyone but Tifa's face were anything to go by he wasn't going crazy.

"I thought I was hallucinating," he mumbled in disbelief.

"What?" Cid asked from beside him.

"Last time, when I was on the run with Cloud, I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the town intact. Guess I wasn't."

Cid snorted. "Unless we've all gone crazy or this place never burned to begin with."

"You haven't gone crazy," Tifa said in a dull voice. "And this place _did _burn. To the ground. This, ladies and gentlemen," she swept her hand out in mocking presentation, "is why I don't talk about Nibelheim anymore."

"If you said it burned, why does it look just fine?" Barrett demanded.

"This smells like Shinra," Red remarked with a small snarl.

Tifa grinned without warmth. "Exactly. Shinra covered it up. Sephiroth going crazy, the village burning, all the people dying—everything. When I got to Midgar I kept trying to explain to people that Shinra had destroyed my hometown, but no one would believe me. They all insisted Nibelheim was intact and I just mad with grief. Eventually, I stopped talking about it."

Barrett laid a meaty hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't believe ya sooner, Teef."

Tifa smiled up at him reassuringly. "Don't worry, Barrett. I had no proof and it was my word against the most powerful company in the world. I wouldn't have believed me either."

"So," Yuffie muttered as she peered curiously at the pristine buildings, "are there people here?"

Tifa shrugged. "I don't know. I assumed that when people claimed it was intact they almost meant inhabited, but I have no idea how that's possible since me, Zack, and Cloud are the only survivors."

"Maybe Shinra paid 'em off." Cid ground harshly on his ever-present toothpick and glared darkly at the town.

"You mean _planting_ people here?" Zack asked in alarm. "You think they would go that far?"

"I wouldn't put anythin' past 'em."

"Well, there's only one way to find out!" Yuffie declared. "Enough talking! Let's go explore."

"Wait!" Zack grabbed her arm before she could march over the threshold into the village. "We can't let anyone know who we are. If they work for Shinra, they might report our presence back to them." He glanced around at the other tension-lined faces in the group with a frown. "I think we should just head straight to the Shinra Mansion and avoid being seen as much as possible."

Reno raised a casual hand. "SOLDIER Boy is right. Shinra _did _plant these people here and they _will _report back, so let's be careful. I'd rather Shinra keep thinking I'm dead. Less problems that way."

"Why the mansion?" Yuffie pulled herself free of Zack's grip with a huff. "Do they have treasure or something?"

"No," Zack replied flatly, instantly destroying the young ninja's growing dreams of riches and restoring her people. "Hojo's lab is there."

Yuffie swore in Wutaian and pouted childishly. "Great, creepy labs."

"Can we just get this over with?" Cloud stepped forward with grim lines of determination cut into his face. It was starting to sink in—flashes of fire and pain, a body of someone he loved limp in his arms. He simultaneously remembered being devastated by the loss of his home and burning it to the ground. It gave him a strange sense of vertigo that he wanted gone as soon as possible.

"I agree with Spiky," Barrett growled. "Let's get this over with. And keep a close eye on the Turk."

Reno rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've come all this way, faked my death, _dyed my hair, _so I could tip off Shinra the minute you guys were stupid enough to set foot in little, old Nibelheim."

If looks could kill Reno would have been six feet under. "Shut it, Turk."

Reno raised his hands in a placating gesture while Zack glared at them. "Knock it off, you two. Let's get moving. The longer we stand out here the more chance there is of someone noticing us."

"Yeah. Let's go." Tifa crossed under the overhang into the village first, keeping to the shadows of the buildings.

The place looked like a ghost town—not a soul in sight. If it weren't for the sound of banging shutters somewhere overhead and someone closing a window, Zack would have thought the place abandoned, after all. They moved swiftly through the deserted streets, propelled forward by the paranoid feeling of eyes boring into their backs. They had almost reached the trail that led out to the mansion when a smiling old lady stepped into the street, blocking their path.

"Hello, visitors. What can I do for you?'

The rebel group exchanged panicked looks before Tifa stepped forward with a bright smile hastily tacked on her face. "Hi. Sorry, we're just passing through. I used to live here and I wanted to see it. It's been a long time since I've been home."

The lady's smile slipped a few millimeters. "I'm afraid that's impossible, child. I've lived here all my life and I don't remember ever seeing you."

"Well, I left when I was very small. You probably don't remember me." Tifa didn't miss a beat, but a slight quiver in her voice betrayed her nervousness.

"Oh no, dear. I never forget a face." The women's tone turned slightly patronizing and Tifa's teeth sank into her bottom lip in a blatant display of anxiety.

"Well you must be mistaken," Aerith interjected, stepping forward. "My cousin was only here until she was five and that was over twenty years ago. It is very possible you forgot her."

The old lady's gaze shifted back and forth between the two angry women before she sighed softly and shook her head. "Perhaps you're right. Well, welcome back, dear. And if you need anything I live just over there." She pointed to a large house at the end of the street and Tifa's eyes narrowed slightly before her forced smile returned.

"Thank you for your hospitality. We're just going to explore a bit."

The woman dipped her head. "Any time, though if you're going to the Shinra manor I would be careful. There are monsters roaming around in those mountains."

"We will be," Aerith said. "Thank you."

Everyone subconsciously held their breath as the woman shuffled away down the street. At last she disappeared from sight around a corner and the rebel group let out a mutual sigh of relief.

"That was close! She sure was a scary old bird," Yuffie exclaimed, shaking her head.

"We're not out the woods yet," Reno cautioned, eyes roaming the shuttered windows of the houses. "We need to get out of here soon. Before they figure out who we are. Shinra doesn't want anyone exposing the whole Sephiroth-losing-his-marbles scandal. According to them, and public records, he died a hero."

"Yeah. Let's head for the mansion." Zack moved forward hurriedly, ushering the group up the slightly overgrown path.

"Keep an eye out. The old bat wasn't lying about the monsters." Tifa clenched one hand into a fist and shook her head. "I can't believe that Shinra _paid_ people to live here. It's like all that pain and suffering never happened. That house the woman was pointing to, that was _my _house. How dare she?"

Aerith placed a calming hand on the warrior's arm. "I'm sorry."

"Eh, you should know by now Shinra isn't exactly known for being all warm and fuzzy," Reno chimed in, ignoring Aerith's warning stare.

Tifa scowled at him, but her retort was drowned out by Yuffie shushing her loudly. "Do you guys hear something?"

Zack paused and cocked his head—advanced hearing picking up even the soft tumbles of loose rocks down the cliff side … and padded, crunching footsteps. "Yeah." He pulled his sword free of his holster and motioned for the suddenly edgy group to come closer. "Move in. Form a circle."

"Oh dear," Cait Sith cried, fisting his hands in Red's fur. Red snorted in annoyance, but held still—sharp eye scanning the cliffs.

"There," Yuffie barked suddenly, gesturing at a large shadow moving along the cliff. It looked like a giant cat, but with a gaping maw of teeth and thick skin around its head, running down to its shoulder blades.

"Should we run for it?" Reno glanced at the mansion looming in the distance—less than a quarter mile away.

"No time," Zack replied just as the beast leapt, sending AVALANCHE scrambling in all directions.

Zack regained his balance and whirled just in time to see a wave of electricity from Reno's EMR strike the monster. It roared angrily, turning beady eyes to glare at the crouching Turk. Before it could charge, Yuffie's shuriken slammed into the side of its head, glancing off the heavy skin protecting its skull before rocketing back into her outstretched hand. It roared and leapt, pushing off the cave wall and slamming headfirst into Barrett before the big gunman could react.

He let out a cry of shock as he hit the dirt. The whipping tail hit Tifa in the side as she rushed to help, bowling her to the ground. Barrett rolled out of the way of the creature's snapping jaws and scrambled to his feet, jumping out of reach of its claws. Cid rammed his spear into the thing's back leg, earning another roar more laced with pain than anger. Reno attacked again, ducking under Red who leapt up and latched onto the soft flesh of the creature's neck tucked behind the thick armor while Cait Sith screamed, hanging on for dear life.

Red was thrown off after a few seconds and Reno flipped back to safety when the monster swiped at him. The claws missed him by mere inches, catching his sleeve and tearing long funnels into it but leaving the skin unharmed. Cloud charged, using the wall to propel himself up onto the creature's back.

As Aerith, Zack, and Tifa attacked from the front, Cid drove his spear into the other hind leg, and Barrett and Yuffie fired at it from opposite sides, the blond plunged his sword into the monster's neck. It gave one final shriek as it toppled to the ground. Violent death spasms racked its large frame for a few seconds before it finally lay still, red eyes glassy and unseeing.

"Nice one … Cloud," Zack panted as a hushed silence fell over the group. The ex-SOLDIER wiped cooling sweat from his brow and glanced around at his shaken comrades. "Everyone okay?"

A chorus of positive responses echoed off the cliff walls.

"Man" Yuffie shook her head and kicked the dead beast. "She definitely wasn't kidding about the monsters."

"They've always been here." Tifa crouched by the head, staring into the glazed eyes. "I don't know why. Maybe the mako. But they only got really bad right before Sephiroth came. He was supposed to destroy them."

"They sure are ugly-looking." Barrett grimaced over Tifa's shoulder. "Don't look natural."

"There are rumors that they are actually escaped experiments from Shinra Mansion, but that has never been proven," Tifa replied grimly. "I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case."

A few AVALANCHE members glanced at Reno who shook his head adamantly. "Don't look at me. I don't know anything about monsters. I'm black ops. Us Turks avoided the science department like the plague. You went down there, good chance you'd never come back again."

Zack sighed. "Well, in any case we should get to the mansion before more show up. I'd rather not have a repeat of that fight."

"No kiddin'," Cid griped, holstering his pike. "Let's get movin'. It's creepy being out here in the open."

The group bustled up the path at twice the speed of before, keeping their eyes open for more signs of monsters. Beyond the occasional strange sound echoing from the distance, everything remained peaceful and dissonantly still. At last, Zack pushed open the old wrought iron gate, wincing as it squealed in deafening protest. "Definitely looks like no one has been here for in awhile."

"The place hasn't been occupied since you guys broke out." Reno stepped up onto the cracking stone path, eyeing the dusty windows warily. "But be careful. Knowing Hojo he's probably left tons of nice little gifts for us."

"I don't like this place," Yuffie whined, attaching herself to an irritated Tifa's side. "It looks haunted or something."

"It probably is," Tifa remarked darkly.

Zack paused at the massive front door, staring at the old wood and trying to gather up his courage again. Now that he was here, actually standing in front of the place haunting his nightmares, it was difficult to hold onto his strength when every inch of him was screaming to run and never look back. His arm felt like lead as he lifted it and pushed against the door. It creaked loudly but didn't budge.

"Okay, everyone stand back." He backed up a few paces and took a deep breath.

"Careful, Fair," Reno called from the base of the steps, "we don't know what's in there."

"I know," Zack replied through gritted teeth and kicked the door open.

And AVALANCHE ventured through it into the dark.

* * *

**Coming up next-- **"That is SO a vampire! How can you say he's not a vampire? He sleeps in a coffin!"


	35. XXXII: Vincent Valentine

**Here is where I apologize profusely and hide behind a table to avoid all the sharp pointy things everyone probably wants to throw at me. Remember that break I said was going to have? Yeah, it turned out to be not much of a break at all, and I was severely disappointed in myself for not making time to write. But it didn't help that I was highly intimidated by this chapter (namely by someone in a red cape *cough*). I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations and I will try my best to get the next one out sooner. However, real life is terribly distracting so I can make no solid promises, unfortunately. I thank you all for your dedication, though. I'm also trying to go through and answer everyone's reviews so I will get to you eventually. **

**Now I will shut up and let you enjoy the roller coaster. Please review, Vincent deserves your feedback. :)**

* * *

"I'm _not _going down there!" Yuffie pointed emphatically at the twisting staircase in front of them, shaking her head.

"Yuffie…" Zack began an attempt to placate her, but was swiftly cut off.

"_No! _First there was the freaky traps and the bats on the first floor, then there was the creature thing in the closet on this floor that nearly bit my head off! I'm choking on dust and I have cobwebs in my hair and I keep seeing spooky stuff moving! I am _not _going down into the basement! There's probably more ghosts or monsters down there!"

"There's no ghosts in here," Reno drawled in the stunned wake of Yuffie's voluminous tantrum.

"Just because we haven't seen them, Turkey, doesn't mean they aren't here!" Yuffie retorted.

Zack stepped forward to keep an argument from breaking out. "Fine. Yuffie, if you don't want to go in the basement you can stay up here and keep watch."

"By myself?" Yuffie asked—a little unsettled by the smirk tugging at the right corner of Zack's mouth. It was gone in a blink.

"Yep. By yourself." Yuffie considered this for a moment then sighed irritably, pulling at the cobwebs matted in her dark hair. "Fine, SOLDIER-Boy, you win. I'll go." Zack smiled as Yuffie visibly steeled herself and glared down at the darkness as though it was her father telling her she couldn't do something.

Now that Yuffie was relatively ready, Zack turned to the remaining apprehensive gazes in the group. The mansion had been an ordeal for all of them so far, and the basement would be far from a walk in the park, but Zack found himself focusing on Cloud's glowing eyes. His best friend hadn't broken yet, but most likely it would only be at matter of time—with the labs as the catalyst.

"You ready?" he asked the group, but kept his gaze on Cloud. The blond nodded amidst the chorus of positive responses from their comrades.

Zack couldn't get himself to feel relieved.

"Let's go," he breathed softly and took the first step of the descent.

They wound down in silence—their way lit only by the feeble light of Tifa's flashlight. The beam bounced off the moisture dripping from the walls, creating miniature rainbows that seemed out of place in the oppressive air of death surrounding them. The stone beneath their feet was cracked and decaying, making travel a tedious process with several harrowing slips.

Zack caught Aerith's arm as she swayed, holding her steady. "You okay?" he murmured in her ear when she clung to his arm.

"Yeah." Her voice wobbled but didn't lack determination. "I just slipped."

"I don't think anyone's come down here in over a year," Reno knocked aside some cobwebs with a scowl.

"And they suck at maintenance," Cid grumbled around his toothpick—standing in for his normal cigarettes, which had been ruined in the ocean and never replaced.

"No kiddin'," Barrett agreed darkly.

"Less talk. More focus," Zack barked, slipping into First Class Mode to keep his rising anxiety in check. "I don't want anyone else falling."

"Yes, sir," Reno responded mockingly, but silence still blanketed the group.

At last their feet touched solid, horizontal ground, and Zack breathed a sigh of relief as Tifa's light illuminated a sprawling cavern littered with rocks and debris and accented by jagged stalactites stretching down from the ceiling. Gas lamps were strung in a line down the tunnel, most mere bare light bulbs that had broken long ago.

"Creeepyy," Yuffie whined, hiding behind Zack who struggled not to remember carrying Cloud down the same passageway over a year before.

"There should be a switch around here somewhere, if the lights still work," Zack muttered, feeling along the cold wall. At last, his fingers closed around a switch, and he pushed the piece of rusted of metal upwards with gritted teeth. The lights gave a half-hearted flicker then died away, leaving only the glow of Tifa's flashlight behind.

"That's a no to the lights, then," Reno remarked calmly.

Zack felt like he was suffocating.

"C'mon," Tifa, always the bravest of them, said after a pregnant pause. Taking a deep breath, she started forward, skirting around rocks and some jagged pieces of metal. Silently, the others fell in line behind her. Around them, the shadows moved and almost seemed to breathe.

The tunnel turned twice before widening into a well-worn circle. Zack's stomach churned when he saw the familiar metal door and the chains hanging from the cave wall, bolted to it with heavy screws. Four chains—one with a collar attached.

"Whoa," Yuffie walked up to it carefully, running her fingers over the old metal, "what did they keep here?"

Four chains—wrists, waist, legs, neck.

"Me," Zack whispered.

Aerith's gasp of horror dragged rough fingers across his heart, making him wince slightly. He had never wanted her to see this, hear this—know the full extent of the damage done to him—but it was too late now.

"No," the flower girl whispered brokenly while Yuffie pulled her hand back as though the chains had burned her, glaring at them with newfound hatred.

Zack shrugged, feeling strangely apathetic. "They only kept me here for awhile. They had figured out my body wasn't responding to the experiments so Hojo wanted to focus on Cloud." He glanced up at the blond, who was staring at the chains with stunned fascination. "He got tired of me interfering and yelling insults and trying to break my tank so he stuck me out here and gagged me so Cloud couldn't hear me. I was weak by then and the chains were reinforced so I couldn't really get away." His voice came out terribly dead sounding, but he didn't have the strength to fix it. Now that he was down here, staring the past in the face, his emotions had apparently decided to take a much-needed vacation.

He was fine with that, but it only seemed to concern everyone else.

Barrett and Cid simultaneously began cursing Shinra while Yuffie and Red both managed to growl at the chains; Cait Sith wrung his hands nervously, Tifa put her hand on Cloud's shoulder—worried about his blank eyes—and Aerith's arms wound their way around his waist.

"Breathe," she whispered through her tears, and it was only then he realized he'd forgotten. His breath came in staccato gasps as he bowed his head and tried to compose himself. They were just chains—stringy pieces of metal rusting away to nothing. All he had to do was forget the feel of them on his skin.

Ha.

"Aerith…" She was soaking his sweater and the door was looming in front of them and he was shaking, conscious of the weight of the others' eyes. He wanted to hold her forever, but they needed to move on.

"You can do this," she murmured, stretching up to place a soft kiss against the back of his neck, and he felt some of the fear drain away. Twisting his head, he smiled gratefully down at her—shaky but sincere and she returned it without hesitation.

"Let's go." His voice didn't tremble when he keyed open the door, but the confidence still felt terribly fleeting.

Inside, everything was the same—the tubes, the table, the equipment, _everything_. Even broken glass still littered the floor. Zack heard a sharp inhale and frowned nervously as Cloud stumbled past him, headed straight for the stained metal table brimming with instruments usually only found in horror movies. Zack rushed after him when realization struck hard: here was the breakdown he'd been waiting for. He placed a hand on Cloud's shivering shoulder and followed his wide-eyed gaze down to the tabletop and the red splatters covering it like someone had gone crazy with a can of spray paint.

Only it wasn't paint, it was blood. Cloud's blood. And Cloud's hand was tracing the patterns with shaky memory. The others hovered in the door, unsure of what to do. Zack ignored them—right now he only had room for him and Cloud and the shattering happening before his eyes.

"Cloud…"

"He cut me," Cloud murmured—eyes full of leftover agony. "Over and over and over. Once, he cut straight to the bone. And he laughed. He always laughed."

"I know," Zack replied brokenly, remembering Hojo's laughter mixing with Cloud's screams and chains and a bitter helplessness weighing him down.

"It hurt…." Cloud swallowed thickly. "He called me his greatest creation. Like … like I was some _thing _he made…"

Zack hesitated, uncertain of what Cloud meant. All Hojo had talked about around Cloud was bringing his greatest creation—Sephiroth—back, and he had never held Cloud up to the same lofty levels. "Spiky?"

"I think I understand why you never told me," Cloud continued in an empty voice offset by the tremors wracking his body and the shattered look in his storm-laced eyes. Zack hovered—unable to say or do the right thing, just like before, and he hated it. Cloud bent over the table, fixing his gaze back on the red. "I kept hoping I would bleed to death. But I never did. Even when it leaked off the table onto the floor."

Enough.

Zack wrenched a protesting Cloud away from the sickening table and folded him into his arms. Cloud struggled briefly, caught up in the hurricane of his memories, then sagged against Zack—a heavy weight like he had been for a year after their escape.

"Stop it," Zack croaked, crying for the both of them. "Just stop it. This isn't helping."

In the background he could hear soft murmurs of shock and horror from their comrades—maybe even Yuffie trying not to throw up—but he couldn't look at them, not yet. Instead, he buried his face in Cloud's hair and held on with all his strength. "It's over, buddy."

"Is it?" Cloud whispered—still dry-eyed and empty. "I can still feel it. It … burns…. Why…?" Zack felt him slipping away into shock, just like after the plate.

"No!" The ex-SOLDIER cried and pushed Cloud to a distance where he could force the blond's eyes up toward his. They were lifeless. "Look at me!" He shook Cloud almost frantically. "Look at _me. _Forget Hojo and the fire and the pain. He can't hurt you anymore. I _promise. _So _look at_ _me." _

A little life bled back into Cloud's eyes but it was only agony.

"_Zack…" _the blond whispered and broke there in his best friend's arms. He lurched forward and clung to Zack with dying strength, needing solid reassurance this was _real _and not a ephemeral fantasy. Zack's arms went around him just as the air froze up in his lungs and he forgot how to function, how to _live. _ Then another set of arms were trying to encompass them both and something heavy rested between his shoulder blades, jolting him back toward sanity. He didn't have to look to know who it was—though _how_ he knew that was a mystery.

Tifa.

"Breathe," Zack murmured into his hair—arms trapped between him and Tifa, solid as a mountain and strong despite his tears. "Just breathe, Cloud."

So Cloud did.

Air escaped him in a rush of breath only to be sucked back in quickly and then at a more gradual pace. And somehow, the simple motion of oxygen circulating through his lungs—a reminder that he _was _alive—soothed away some of the frantic pain.

"That's it," Tifa encouraged—lips ghosting across the back of his neck, soothing for reasons he still couldn't define.

"Let it out." A new voice—gentle like the spring rain. Aerith, with a one hand on Tifa's back, one hand on Zack's, and a warm smile for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting that warmth infect him, and crushed between the three of them the fear and the panic began to recede.

He could forget about cold hands invading and violating, metal tearing at his skin, staring up at the ceiling from a blood soaked table and begging for death, Zack's arms and tears and screams and words that were both painful and comforting because they kept him from slipping away completely.

A hell beyond imagination, stretching on forever, but it was over now. So Cloud let go. One quiet sob for the humanity he had lost and the still-disjointed memories swirling around in his head, another for Zack who gave up everything for him, and a final one for them all and how deeply Shinra had broken them.

And that was enough.

With a hiccupping breath, Cloud untangled himself from the group hug, offering each of the concerned faces a wan smile. "I'll be … okay. Thank you."

Aerith returned the smile, while Tifa brushed his cheek gently, but Zack only frowned. Leaning in, he whispered in Cloud's ear. "If you need to talk more, I'm here."

Cloud squeezed his shoulder, a promise of a future conversation, and turned a little shyly back to the rest of the group, who all pretended to be busy poking around the lab.

"Sorry, guys."

Yuffie waved a hand casually, but her eyes were haunted and a little stunned. "No problem, Chocobo-Head. If it was me, I'd be bawling all over the floor right now."

"Yes," Red agreed with a tiny growl. "You have every right. Shinra's atrocities just seem to grow."

With his usual lack of tact, Reno moved them on. "Alright. Enough with the sob fest. Let's split up and look for Gast's research."

Zack glared, but didn't argue the point. "Fine. It's probably in the library, which is through that door." Zack pointed to a nondescript wooden door in the corner of the room.

Reno smirked at it. "Right, I remember now." Unceremoniously, he kicked the door in and disappeared inside. With a sigh of exasperation, Tifa followed him, muttering that he would burn the place down or something if he was left alone. And Barrett, not one to leave Tifa alone with a Turk, trailed in after her.

Zack felt an exasperated smile tugging at his lips as Cid, Red, and Cait Sith spread out through the lab, nosing in the various bookshelves decorating the walls. Aerith was about to join the search when Reno poked his head through the library doorway.

"Hey, Flower Girl, there's some weird stuff in here. We think it might be Ancient or something. Come take a look."

Aerith sighed, but disappeared into the library. Zack struggled to decide what to do, still battling the flight or fight instinct this place always created within him. He had almost made up his mind to search other areas of the mansion—just to get out of the lab, if he was honest with himself—when Cloud tugged on his arm.

"Zack, we should find Vincent." Zack turned in surprise at Cloud's offhand comment.

Who was his friend talking about? And just how long would it take for Cloud to stop shocking him with new information? Probably never. Whatever Hojo had done to Cloud, it had altered him and Zack was scared to know just how much, though he had his suspicions. Currently, however, he was only capable of a puzzled stare.

The blond was halfway to the door of the labs before Zack managed get his feet moving and grab his shoulder to stop him. "Wait … what? Who's Vincent?"

Cloud's brow furrowed and he rubbed his forehead wearily. "I'm actually … not really sure. I just know that Hojo used to talk about a man named Vincent sometimes. I think he's here in the basement somewhere."

Zack frowned. "So … he's an experiment, too?"

Cloud shot him a look that was equal parts helplessness and frustration. "I don't know. I just … think we should find him."

"Why?"

The blond shrugged and closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was just a faint murmur. "No one deserves to stay trapped down here."

Zack felt like he had been sucker punched—a now familiar feeling around Cloud. "Y-yeah." He tried to imagine someone stuck in this dark hell for years, unable to escape like they had, believing they would die unnoticed in the shadows under a scientist's scalpel. He knew the feeling all too well. "Let's find him."

"What's this about finding some guy in the basement?" Yuffie piped up, appearing at Zack's shoulder.

Zack frowned down at her once he'd recovered from his near panic attack. "You're not coming."

Yuffie pouted. "Why not? Looking through books and stuff is boring."

"You didn't want to come down here in the first place. You're sure you're okay trekking through more creepy caverns?" The last thing Zack wanted to deal with was a shrieking ninja attempting to jump into his arms—like the closest incident on the second floor, and it was enough to thank whoever might be listening that his eardrums hadn't burst.

Yuffie huffed, flicking at her bangs with an air of self-importance that grated against Zack's already well-worn nerves. "Well, there's no way I'm staying down here and poking through boring old books. And besides you guys will be with me and you have huge swords and stuff so we'll be fine."

Deciding that arguing her logic was pointless, simply because there wasn't really any, Zack sighed and nodded. "Fine. Let's go." He paused in the doorway to let Cid know he was leaving, then closed the door on the pilot's questions, unable to deal with them at the moment.

Cloud and Yuffie were waiting for him in the caverns, far away from the circular area with the chains, and in the dark Cloud's eyes looked almost feverish. Zack stubbornly ignored the hints of green in them.

"Okay. Vincent's probably down here somewhere, right?" He asked as he approached them, needing someone to bounce his thoughts off of.

Cloud nodded. "Yeah."

Zack lifted his eyes to the ceiling, racking his memory for a layout of the place. He had done a little exploring during his escape with Cloud, looking for an alternate way out of the lab that required less fighting, but he had been woozy with drugs and weak so everything in his memory was doused in a mako fog. With a hiss of frustration, the ex-SOLDIER ran a hand through his hair as he turned back to his inquisitive comrades.

"I have no idea where he could be." He plowed on through their crestfallen expressions. "But there aren't too many rooms down here. So if we wander, I'm sure we'll find him pretty quick."

"I hope so," Yuffie muttered. "Last time we 'wandered' I nearly got my face taken off."

Zack glared. "Hey, if you're going to complain you can stay and go through books with everyone else."

Sensing his mounting frustration, Yuffie wisely accepted defeat and waved her hands in a bid for peace. "Okay, okay. My lips are sealed." She made a dramatic display of zipping her lips closed and throwing away the key. Zack smiled in spite of himself.

Cloud, immune to Yuffie's antics and any amusement they provoked, glanced at the area around them—and the three passageways that branched off into the dark. "Which way should we head first?"

Chewing on his lip, Zack spun in a slow circle, regarding the passageways. After a moment of indecision, he opted for the far left one—wide and smooth and probably once well-traveled. "That one."

And so he made his first mistake.

* * *

Half an hour later found them back in the main area—more dust covered and bloody and wound up than before.

With an aggravated yell, Yuffie stamped her foot and pointed an accusing finger at Zack. "You! This is all your fault! Go left, he said. It looks fine, he said. Most well-traveled way. Don't worry, Yuffie, I don't hear anything. You're just being paranoid. There aren't any ghosts down here. Ha!"

Zack grunted and wiped away blood dripping into his eyes from a scratch across his forehead. "Well, it wasn't a ghost."

"That's beside the point!" Yuffie argued with an angry flick of her hand. "A monster three times my size is just as bad!"

"It wasn't three times your size," Zack shot back, folding his arms and regarding her with smoldering eyes—a hint of the temper building within.

"I'll be the judge of that!"

"Look, you—"

"Will you both cut it out?" Cloud's voice bit into their conversation, bringing the escalating fight to a screeching halt. The blond had blood smeared across one cheek and matted into his hair, and his eyes displayed just as much frustration as Zack's. "This isn't helping and you're acting like five year olds. We ran into a monster, we killed it, we got a little banged up the process, so what? Let's just move on." For a minute Cloud reminded Zack of Tifa—and a little bit of Sephiroth—and it was rather terrifying.

"Sure," he agreed easily—not wanting to find out if Cloud could mimic Tifa's often explosive rage. "Let's try door number two."

He pointed at the middle passage and made his second mistake.

* * *

"I hate you!"

"How was I supposed to know there was an army of rats living in there?"

"Army? It was more like a full scale empire! And they were _huge!_"

"Let me guess? Three times your size?"

"Probably! And one _bit _me. _Bit _me! See this? He might have gotten me straight to the bone!"

"It's just a scratch…"

"I probably have rabies now! If I do, I'm biting you in your sleep. Stupid SOLDIER-Boy."

"This is _not _my fault."

"You picked the passageway! It's your fault."

"So you pick!"

"There's only one left!"

"So the job's done for you."

"Only because you've screwed up so many—"

"Stop it, both you. Or I'll … hit you with my sword. _Hard." _

"Sorry, Cloud."

"Yeah," Zack sighed and hung his head, feeling a little sheepish for getting drawn into another argument by the infantile ninja. But he was tired and bloody and there was a hole in his pants from where a _rat _of all things had tried to take a chunk out of him, so he figured he was a little entitled.

Still, if Angeal had been here he would have ripped him a new one for highly unprofessional behavior. Since his mentor was long gone, Zack mentally smacked himself upside the head and stamped down hard on his irritation. "Look, I know we're all tired and frustrated, but if someone is down here, I'm not giving up on him. The third passageway is the only one left, so there's a good chance he'll be down there. Let's just get this over with."

His comrades nodded and together they cautiously approached the final passageway—narrowed and jagged, winding down into the dark—that hopefully contained this mysterious Vincent.

Third time's a charm.

* * *

Aerith frowned as she studied the book in her hands, turning it sideways slowly as though looking at it from a new angle would help her understand the alien script flowing across the page. Reno hovered beside her—an impatient presence peering over his shoulder that wasn't helping matters in the slightest. Gracing him with an annoyed glance, Aerith motioned for him to give her some space.

"Do you mind? I feel like I can't breathe."

"Sorry," Reno griped, but moved a few feet away, busying himself with another bookshelf. Aerith let out a quiet sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the book.

"I don't understand," she murmured under her breath, frowning at the worn page.

"What?" Tifa asked from her left, coming to occupy the space Reno had vacated.

Aerith sighed, flipping the book right side up again with a shake of her head. "I can't read this. I feel like it's important and I'm fairly certain it's Ancient script, but I can't read it so there's no way to be sure."

"Do you think it's Gast's?" Tifa asked softly, running her hand along the frayed edge of the book.

"Or my mother's," Aerith whispered almost reverently, tracing the flowing penmanship with loving fingers.

As usual, Reno ruined the moment. "So … you can't read Ancient? I thought you were one, Flower Girl."

Tifa glared at the offending Turk—furious that he had first brushed off Cloud's pain and now Aerith's grief. "Hey, why don't you—"

"No, I can't read it," Aerith cut her off, wanting to prevent an argument between people she cared about. Because, in spite all his brashness and rough edges, Reno had found a place in her heart alongside Tifa and the rest of AVALANCHE. "My mother died when I was very young. I barely remember her, and she never had time to teach me our people's ways."

"Oh," Reno said softly, and maybe he knew how to respect grief after all, if the subtle softening in his steely eyes was any indicator. "I see."

Aerith offered him a wavering smile. "Yeah."

"But maybe there's still someone out there who can read it and it might be a clue about Gast," Tifa interjected—a little unsettled by the tender moment between the flower girl and the _Turk. _

The last Ancient closed the book with a tight nod. "Of course."

As they were about to spread out once more, a shout rose up from the adjoining lab, sounding like Barrett.

"Hey guys, you're gonna wanna see this!"

* * *

Zack wrenched his sword free from the dead monster's tough skin and fell back against the wall with a heaving breath, pulling air into his struggling lungs. A few yards away, Cloud was crouched in front of metal door implanted into the rough stone, running his gloved fingers over the surface. Yuffie hovered anxiously at his shoulder—hands twitching as she clutched her shuriken tightly.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, voice high-pitched with exhaustion and panic. This had turned out to be more of an adventure than any of them anticipated.

Cloud shook his head, sitting back on his heels with a small sigh. "It needs a card of some sort."

Yuffie threw up her free hand in exasperation. "Great! Just _great! _There is _no _way I am searching all over this creepy place for a card to open a door to a guy who's probably a freaky experiment or something."

"Hey," Cloud muttered a little angrily, and was ignored.

Zack pried himself from the wall and joined the other two, crouching down to examine the locking mechanism on the door.

"Hmm." He too ran his fingers across the metal, rapping at it with his knuckles. It sounded feeble and worn—as decayed as the rest of the mansion. "I think we might be able to break it open. It's rusted enough."

Cloud shrugged as he pushed himself back to his feet. "It's worth a shot."

With a deep breath Zack unsheathed his sword, motioning Yuffie to step back. Cloud stood by his side with his own sword gripped tightly—knees bent and body coiled with pent-up strength.

"Ready?" Zack asked as they exchanged a quiet glance. Cloud nodded. "Okay, on three." The two raised their swords as Yuffie ducked for cover. "One … two … three!"

They swung the swords one after the other, throwing all their strengths into the blows. Beneath the weight of the steel blades and mako strength, the old door creaked and cracked, long spider webs running across the metal. Zack huffed a disbelieving laugh and nodded at Cloud. "Again!"

Three more blows and the door came loose, crumbling into the room with a thunderstorm of dust and noise. Zack and Yuffie let out triumphant yells, pumping fists into the air, while Cloud sheathed his sword with a satisfied smirk. Exuberance faded away quickly to caution, however, when the group peered into the blackness of the room. The dim light from the tunnel, shone on bulky shadows and rats scurried across the floor, climbing across objects that looked frighteningly like…

"Are those _coffins?" _Yuffie cried, pointing to one of the objects propped against the far wall.

Zack swallowed nervously. "Apparently."

"Do you think there's people in the them?" Yuffie asked fearfully, already beginning to back away from the door.

Zack sighed, trying not to blame her for her fears. The Wutai were a very superstitious people, who believed the dead could do terrible things if not cremated and laid to rest peacefully. While in Wutai during the war, Zack had heard stories about spirits taking control of the ash of the dead and wreaking havoc on villages, or vengeful ghosts wandering the earth, unable to sleep because they had not been properly disposed of upon their death.

"I don't know," he replied.

Yuffie pressed herself against the wall opposite the door. "I'll wait here. Keep watch for monsters," she said, clutching her shuriken with white, trembling fingers.

Zack nodded in understanding. If she stayed outside, there was also less of a chance for her to attempt another leap into his arms.

"Okay. Ready to—Cloud?" Zack glanced around, only to find that his friend had already ventured into the room, kicking rats out of the way as he headed toward a coffin in the back, laying horizontal on the floor.

Exasperated, Zack rushed after him, trying not to think about what could occupy the numerous coffins lining the walls. The room smelled like death and decay—the same smell permeating the labs—and it make his stomach churn uncomfortably. Cloud hardly seemed to notice as he knelt by the coffin.

"Help me get this open."

"Wait…" Zack moved to his side. "You think he's _inside _one of these things?"

Cloud nodded, brow furrowed. "I … think so. Hojo mentioned something about a coffin once." Zack didn't particularly like the hesitant note in Cloud's voice, but he humored the blond, kneeling beside him in the dirt and trying hard not to the think about the rats running all around him.

Together they managed to push back the lid, and when light fell across the dark recesses, Zack gasped at the sight. A man lay inside, looking to be no more than mid to late twenties and showing no signs of decay. He was dressed in red, with tangled black hair, and his skin looked so white it could have been made of porcelain. He seemed human … and not—unnatural in ways Zack couldn't fully understand. It was almost like looking at Sephiroth—something _more _than human, beyond what normal people could ever hope to be. Closer to perfection and madness.

Then the man's eyes opened.

Zack cried out in shock and lurched backwards as the red irises latched onto his own and held him in a withering stare. Cloud remarkably remained calm as the man sat up slowly.

"Who are you?" he demanded in a voice raspy and scratchy with disuse, like sandpaper.

"We're part of AVALANCHE," Cloud answered. "And you're Vincent."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "I've never seen you before. How do you know my name?"

Zack collected himself and rejoined Cloud. "We used to be here," he explained so Cloud didn't have to. "As experiments. We broke out about a year and a half ago. Hojo mentioned you once."

Vincent's piercing eyes roamed over them critically before he seemed to accept their explanation. "What do you want?"

"Your help. We need you to come fight with us," Cloud said, surprising Zack yet again. He'd thought that this was rescue mission of some kind, but apparently Cloud thought this strange man could be useful somehow. Though if Hojo had kept him under such tight lock and key he was probably dangerous and therefore a worthy ally.

"No. Leave." Vincent's voice was cold and hard, leaving no room for argument.

Zack tried anyway. "You can't want to stay here! If you come with us you can fight against Shinra, get them back for that they've done to you."

"I don't care about revenge. I have many things to atone for. Go."

Zack frowned in confusion. "Atone for? What things?"

Vincent hesitated briefly, gloved fingers hovering over the rim of the coffin, ready to pull the lid shut. "I let her die," he said at last and began to lie back.

It was Cloud who leaned forward to stop him—something fierce in his eyes, like a pained kind of understanding. "So you lie here in a coffin? How is that atonement?" the blond asked bitterly. "Who killed her?"

Vincent levied him a long stare before replying darkly, "Shinra." A pregnant pause. "_Hojo." _

"Then come with us. Get back at him. Isn't that a better way to atone for your sins?"

Cloud gripped the edge of the coffin tightly, locking eyes with Vincent, and Zack saw something close to kinship—the beginnings of a bond founded on pain and regret—building rapidly between them. He didn't know what brought them together so quickly—maybe the fact that they were two souls who had suffered horribly. Theirs was a pain even Zack couldn't fully understand, though he knew all too well what it was like to fail someone you loved.

Leaning forward, he nodded. "Come with us and defeat Hojo. I think she would appreciate that more than sleeping in a coffin."

Vincent glanced back and forth between the two of them, before tilting his head to the side in contemplation. "Who are you?"

"I'm Zack Fair," Zack thumped his chest. "Former SOLDIER, 1st Class. This is Cloud Strife."

"You were part of Shinra?" Vincent asked as he slowly stood. "So you know Sephiroth?"

Zack's eyes flew to the metal gauntlet encasing the man's left arm, remembering suddenly that he had been experimented on in the same way they had. It was a minute before the question registered and another before bitterness and pain rushed up to take their usual place in his heart.

"Yes," he whispered, noting Cloud's subtle flinch in the corner of his eye. "I did."

"Did?" Vincent crossed his arms and pinned Zack with those eyes of his—so unnatural a color.

"He's dead," Zack murmured, trying not to let the anger into his words. "Five years ago."

Vincent's eyes widened subtly, but he didn't press the issue any further, discouraged from it by the raw pain in Zack's voice. With a quiet sigh, the man stepped out of his coffin with fluid ease, hinting at a fighter's grace.

"Fine," he said gruffly, brushing dust from his tattered red cape. "I'll go with you."

Zack and Cloud let out twin breaths of relief just as Yuffie's voice echoed from the hallway. "Guys, what's going on? You've been in there a really long time. Did you find anything creepy?" The ninja poked her head through the door and froze, eyes going wide as she caught sight of Vincent.

He regarded her with cold calm, probably deeming her too annoying to dignify a response—he seemed eerily similar to Sephiroth in that regard. It didn't really matter. Yuffie noticed the his red eyes as they gleamed in the dim light and let out a scream loud enough to make Zack cringe.

"What are you doing? Put him back! He's a vampire or something!" Panicking, the ninja backpedaled toward the doorway.

Vincent blinked at her, an air of exasperation surrounding him. "I am not a vampire."

"Yeah right! Look at him, he's got red eyes and creepy clothes and he sleeps in a coffin. He is _so _a vampire!"

"Yuffie!" Zack cried, exasperated. "He's _not _a vampire. His name is Vincent…" he paused, and shot a questioning glance at the stoic man.

"Valentine."

"Valentine, and he's going to be a part of AVALANCHE now, so if you're creeped out go back to the others!"

"You're letting him in the group?!"

"Yuffie!"

"Enough," Cloud interjected wearily. "The sword threat still stands."

Apparently, Cloud was still more intimidating than the "vampire"—though _how _that was possible, Zack didn't know, since the blond wasn't much taller than her—because Yuffie backed down with a sigh.

"Fine, fine." She pointed at Vincent. "But you stay away. _Far _away."

"Gladly," Vincent deadpanned.

With a huff, Yuffie turned and marched from the room—trying to make it a dignified retreat and failing. Zack rolled his eyes and offered Vincent a tired smile. "I apologize for her."

Vincent turned to glance at him, features like stone. "Is the rest of your organization like this?"

Zack shook his head frantically. "No. _Definitely_ not. I would go insane."

Vincent snorted quietly. "Good. I was about to change my mind." His voice held no trace of humor, but Zack still chuckled under his breath and Cloud cracked a small smile.

Maybe Vincent Valentine wouldn't be so bad. After all, Zack had learned from experience never to judge by first impression.

Yuffie had yet to understand the principle.

* * *

**Coming up next--**more introductions of the awkward kind, and clues from the past.


	36. XXXIII: Shards

**Hello, dear readers! Can I just say right now I'm floored by all the support there has been for this story. You all ROCK. Hard core. XD **

**That's all I have to say. Enjoy the chapter! **

* * *

He wouldn't be able to wear white soon.

It was rather pathetic that was his only thought as he carefully unwound the bandages casing his arm, grimacing slightly at the black substance that dripped into the sink like ink from a leaky pen. His shirt came off next, stained across the front and sleeves with obscene dark patches—ruined beyond repair. At least the multiple layers he wore masked the telltale marks, even if the bandages no longer could. The pain was the hardest to hide, stabbing beneath his skin into his muscles and bones like a thousand tiny knives. His arm and chest screamed whenever he moved too suddenly and over the past six months their screams had grown so loud he could barely hear anything else.

And how foolish was that, giving some disease a personality and a mind of its own?

He laughed mockingly at himself as he carefully dropped the ruined shirt into his waste bin, to be burned as soon as possible. Sanity was such a feeble, fragile thing, and his was slipping a little more every day. Maybe it was living knowing he was going to die before he reached twenty-three and the fear that he wouldn't be able to accomplish everything he hoped to before then.

Silly. He couldn't save the world. But he was Rufus Shinra and that didn't stop him from at least trying.

Shaking off the oddly introspective thoughts, Rufus turned back to the other problem at hand—the far more pressing one than the sometimes bizarre workings of the human brain:

He wouldn't be able to wear white soon.

The black stains were too telling, seeping through more layers every day, and soon they would mar his outer suit in decidedly attention-attracting ways. That, under any circumstances, H_could not _happen. If his father found out…

He stamped down on that train of thought, frowning to himself as he carefully reapplied the bandages, making sure to wash some of the excess black off into the sink. His father would never find out—at least not until he was dead, and he planned for the Old Man to be long gone before then. So, he would have to discard his white suit—his trademark, and therein lay the problem.

He had worn white for years, ever since he was named vice president of the company (because white made him feel a little cleaner, a little less stained by the filth of his father's world, but he would never mention that to anyone, barely ever said it to himself), and if he stopped wearing it now unwanted suspicion would certainly be raised, and difficult questions asked. That was the problem with a trademark, and he regretted letting himself fall into something so vulnerably routine. Perhaps, he could pass the change off as the whim of a rich brat. He had played that card many times in the past without fail, surely it would work on something as trivial as the color of his suit.

Sighing, Rufus brushed his bangs from his eyes. They were getting too long again, falling into his face and making him look younger than his years—though if he was going to play the spoiled president's son card, it might be a good thing.

Tired of looking at his reflection with its too-bright eyes and too-pale skin, the vice president turned away and carefully peeled off the rest of his white suit, depositing it alongside the shirt. He dressed as quickly as his aching body would allow in the spare black suit from his closet. The other still bore stains from his venture into Hojo's lab a week and a half earlier—getting it dry-cleaned was on his long to-do list of insignificant things.

A few minutes later he looked presentable and his mask was firmly back in place, secured across his face so tightly that none of the pain and exhaustion and fear could get through. Rufus was human. Rufus ached for the world, and was a little afraid to die, and sometimes wanted to crawl in bed and hide from life and responsibilities and the pain that ate at him every hour of every day.

Rufus Shinra was none of those things. Rufus Shinra wasn't even human.

* * *

Something was wrong. She knew it the minute he breezed into his office with the usual grace and ice, snapping at his secretary for this file or that document, and where was his tea? Normally, this demanding behavior prompted an eye roll and a quiet smile from her, but today a frown settled itself on her features. Yes, Rufus was demanding and patronizing, and a little spoiled—raised among the high society elites of Midgar and therefore unable to understand the true meaning of suffering and scraping by on next to nothing—but…

Today he seemed much … _brattier_ than normal, if that was the right wording. Yes, brattier.

Elena's sharp brown eyes narrowed as she watched her boss reduce his poor secretary to tears. He was putting more effort than normal into the mask today, trying desperately to hide … what? She couldn't be sure, but it was something important and therefore her business, as most things pertaining to him had become.

"Sir?" She ventured after the secretary had fled past her, weeping bitterly. Once again she found herself staring at his reflection in the glass, lit by the feeble morning sun barely able to penetrate Midgar's formidable clouds of pollution.

"What, Elena?" he replied, calm and controlled and still faking.

"Is something wrong?" She kept her voice neutral and biting. Concern had no place within these walls.

He turned and pinned her with the full weight of his cold blue stare. In response, she raised her chin and waited, wordlessly reminding him she was no weak secretary. After a tense moment of silence, he looked away with a sigh—and only the fact that it was _him _kept it from being a surrender.

"It's nothing," he muttered, slumping into his seat with a lack of dignity she knew he wouldn't display around anyone else. "You don't need to be concerned."

Her fingers curled into a fist at her side as anger stirred deep within her. He was running away and after all this time, she thought she'd earned more trust than that. "It's my job to protect you, sir. If something is wrong, I need to know."

She felt his displeasure like a tangible thing when he looked up at her again, but she planted her feet and refused to back down. "This is a personal matter. None of your business. You're dismissed." His voice was full of blaring warning signals, red and loud and impossible to ignore. She still did.

"As your bodyguard—"

"Leave!" he interrupted, slamming his hands down onto the desk and this time there was nothing but blue fire in his gaze—strong and hot enough to make Elena flinch ever so slightly. The only other time his emotions had been so close to the surface and swept up into such a horrible storm was in the aftermath of his mother's untimely death years ago when he was still a teenager trying to fit into a man's skin. Now…

Oh, something was wrong, alright. Terribly wrong.

And that thought scared her more than she would ever admit.

"Sir…" she whispered, some of the fight knocked out of her by his forceful tone.

"Go, Elena," he bit out—more controlled but still seething enough to be unmistakable.

Feeling the anger and frustration resurface, Elena drew herself up, gathering her pride after being dismissed so abruptly—like a pathetic _secretary_—and marched toward the door after a curt nod of submission. "Very well, sir. But I was only trying to help."

Her hand was on the knob when his voice—now tired and just defeated enough to be worrying—chased after her. "Wait."

She let her hand drop to her side, but didn't turn to face him, staring instead at the wood patterns on the door as she waited for him to piece himself together again. "I admit I have been a little under the weather lately. Probably all the late nights."

_Liar._

But Elena said nothing, merely turned with another nod. "I can understand, sir. My apologies for prying."

He dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand, rubbing his temple with the other, and in the morning light he _did _look pale and drawn. "Forget it, Elena. We have more important things to worry about. Like getting the book."

"The book Heidegger and Scarlet were talking about?" Elena questioned, remembering an air duct and whispered voices talking about a book that apparently held the secrets to the Ancients.

"Yes. But I have no idea where to start looking." Rufus's fingers dug into his temples a little harder and Elena was about to suggest painkillers when he dropped his hand and seemed to rearrange himself yet again, sitting up straighter in the chair and folding his hands on the desk in an attempt to look professional. Probably to counteract the weakness he had just admitted to.

"Heidegger and Scarlet would be a good place to start," Elena remarked wryly, pretending she hadn't noticed anything at all.

Rufus sighed again. "Yes, but they're here more often than Hojo. Harder to get close to. Besides, we can't go anywhere tonight. I have a social function I must attend."

Elena arched an eyebrow. "A social function?"

"Yes," Rufus grimaced. "A ball. Unfortunately, I need to play my puppet role so I stay in the Old Man's good graces. The last thing I need is to be transferred back to Junon, or placed under house arrest again."

Elena remembered _that _incident well: the first attempt to topple the company that hadn't gone nearly as planned. "I see."

A little bit of amusement crept into Rufus's eyes, lightening them several shades until they matched the pale blue of the morning. Elena felt unease stir in her stomach at the look, in spite of how her heart unexplainably brightened.

"That's why I need you to buy a dress." The other eyebrow joined the first, and she knew the look was hardly professional, but couldn't really bring herself to care. He was talking about _dresses, _for Gaia's sake. _Her _in _dresses. _And that was just _ridiculous_.

"Excuse me?"

The amusement turned smug. She wanted to hit him, right in the middle of his trademark smirk so rarely directed right at her. "Why, because you're my date."

It took a moment for his words to set in and, to her credit, when they did she wasn't reduced to a spluttering heap of indignation. "I'm your _bodyguard_. That hardly qualifies as a date."

How had the topics changed so rapidly, making her the one off balance? Stupid, Rufus Shinra. He had _planned _this somehow, she just _knew_. Especially when the smirk grew a millimeter or two. "Well, this is supposed to be a strictly peaceful function. No visible security. So you will need to blend in, and for that, you need a dress. After all, it is still not socially expectable for a woman to wear a suit to a ball."

Elena almost, _almost _demanded to know why the hell not, but decided that would be an unforgivable breach in protocol and _very _damaging to her reputation, especially if Reno somehow got wind of it. So instead she sent him a glare meant to convey all of her displeasure and straightened to her full height. "I don't own a dress."

Rufus's look suggested she was stating the obvious. "Of course not. That's why you need to buy one. I'll compensate you, of course."

Quietly seething, but knowing she had lost before she even stepped into his office, just like always, Elena nodded tightly. "Very well, sir."

Rufus bent over last night's leftover paperwork in silent dismissal, but once again, as soon as her hand touched the cool metal of the door handle, he spoke. "Green would look good on you."

Frustrated, Elena wondered if this was somehow payback for the comment about him looking good in black last week. That would be just like him and she couldn't decide to be annoyed or amused. Halfway between the two landed her right on exasperation and she figured that was a good enough spot to stay for the time being. "One green dress. Got it, sir. I'll be back later."

"Very good, Elena."

It wasn't until Elena stepped out into the reception area and closed the ostentatious door behind her did she realize exactly how well her boss had diverted her attention from her original concern. He'd been so successful she'd forgotten all about her most pressing question.

Why, after over half a decade, he wasn't wearing white.

That _stupid_ little…

Elena nearly put her hand through the wall by the elevator and back in the reception area the secretary cowered behind her desk, wondering why she had agreed to work with lunatics.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You're Vincent Valentine. _The _Vincent Valentine."

Zack couldn't be sure, but he thought there were _stars _in Reno's eyes. Or a least a ton of childlike admiration that had come out of _nowhere. _Vincent was cool-looking, sure—with the cape and the eyes and the claw and the height—but not enough to get Reno to act like … well, a five-year-old with a hero to worship.

And how in Gaia's name did Reno know who Vincent was? The man had been locked in a coffin for who-knew how long and Reno had only been down here once.

Vincent seemed just as surprised. Or at least, Zack thought so from the continuous blinking. Other than that, nothing on the man's face changed from indifferent aloofness.

"Yes," he responded evenly while the others exchanged confused glances. Introductions had been going pretty well after Barrett nearly blew Vincent's head off when he first walked through the door out of sheer terror. Yeah, after that things had been settling down. Then Reno had walked in.

"You're a legend," Reno said, still oozing awe. "We all thought you were dead."

Vincent apparently understood what the ex-Turk meant because the blinking slowed down some. "I was."

Behind Zack Yuffie shuddered and inched further away, mouthing "vampire" when the former SOLDIER turned his head to look at her. He rolled his eyes and left her to her paranoia, though Vincent's bland words did send a bit of a chill down his spine. Everyone else, even Reno, seemed to share the "highly creeped out" sentiment by the looks they sent each other. After a pregnant pause full of awkward silence, Tifa shook her head and frowned at Reno.

"How do you know him, exactly?"

"He used to be a Turk." Reno rolled his eyes to the ceiling in contemplation. "About … twenty years ago. I think. He just vanished. Nobody ever found him. He was proclaimed dead a year later." Zack hazarded a glance in Vincent's direction, hoping for some kind of confirmation from the man, but he seemed content to blink in silence.

Tifa threw her hands up with an irritated huff. "Great, just great. Another Turk."

Zack flinched slightly when Vincent's red gaze turned fully to Tifa, narrowing in focus for the first time since they met him. It was one of the scariest things the ex-SOLDIER had ever seen, and with Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth for comrades, that was saying a lot. "I haven't been a Turk for over twenty years. I refuse to be associated with Shinra."

To her credit Tifa only blanched a little and maintained her dignity, gracefully bailing out of the situation. "Right. I'm sorry."

Vincent huffed quietly and turned away—forgiveness in that simple motion enough for Tifa to relax and turn her attention back to Aerith as the flower girl spoke.

"Welcome to AVALANCHE," she said with a small smile—hands still wrung tightly around the piece of parchment she'd been holding when Yuffie stormed in yelling about vampires. Vincent's eyes trailed down to her tight hands before he nodded once—face impassive but gaze softer than it had been, and that was plenty for Zack. If Vincent had threatened Aerith in any way…

Yeah, that wouldn't have ended well.

"Well, now that everybody knows everybody can we get back to talkin' about what we found?" Cid asked, apparently unfazed by men who slept in coffins in basements and appeared out of the gloom like ghosts.

Zack, grateful for once for the man's unfailing pragmatism, nodded jerkily. "Yeah." Wait. "What … did you guys find, exactly?"

Tifa rolled her eyes, but canted her head in Aerith's direction. "We think we have the location of Gast's old lab."

Zack felt hope spark in his veins and he nearly dashed over to Aerith in his excitement. If this really was the location of Gast's lab, he would do a victory dance … or something. "Really?"

Aerith smiled at him, loving amusement in her gaze, but he forced himself not to melt and focus on the paper she placed gently into his hands. When he unfurled it he saw a map, or rather a part of a map—the northern continent, to be exact. The rest had been cut off by jagged lines, like someone had try to tear the thing to pieces. One area of the map was dotted in bright red pen with a scrawled name across it in Hojo's unmistakably horrible handwriting:

_Gast. _

Zack felt like cheering. And if he actually let out a small whoop, who could blame him? This was _gold, _everything they'd been looking for. It almost seemed too easy … and he quickly shook off that growing trail of thought, not wanting to jinx their success.

"This is _great," _he exclaimed, grinning at Aerith.

She giggled at his enthusiasm. "Thank Barrett and Red. They found it."

Red's mouth did his slightly scary smiling thing while his eye remained aloof. "It was nothing. That madman had jammed it between some books. Very easy to find, actually."

"Says _you," _Barrett grumbled, but trailed off into silence after collective glares from the beast and Tifa.

Reno ambled up to Zack's side, peering over his shoulder, while Yuffie and Cloud fought and wormed their way into the circle. "So," the former redhead drawled, "care to tell how far we have to hike?"

Zack frowned, glancing back down at the map again. In his excitement, he had completely forgotten to check the exact location. When his eyes landed on the town next to the red circle, he felt his hopes crashing around his feet like popped balloons and a small groan of frustration escaped his lips.

"_Man_…"

"What?" Reno asked impatiently, still unable to see.

"We have to go to Icicle Inn."

"_What?!" _This from Yuffie, right in his ear. Zack grimaced and stepped sideways, glaring at her darkly as she continued without noticing she'd nearly blown out his eardrums. "That's … that's _really _close to the Northern Crater and there's monsters and it's _freezing _up there!"

"Baby," Reno snorted and ducked a wild punch from the ninja.

Vincent gracefully extracted himself from the mounting chaos, sidling closer to Zack. "Why are you looking for Gast?" the once Turk asked with traces of curiosity flavoring his monotone.

Zack sighed, watching Tifa and Barrett zealously go on Contain Yuffie duty before turning his attention back to the imposing man at his side—and he wasn't intimidated, he was _not… _

Ah, screw it, Vincent was creepy and mildly terrified him, but he could learn to deal with that. "We need to find out what kind of work he was doing with the Ancients. We believe that Shinra is up to something big and it involves Gast's old research."

Vincent blinked slowly, and Zack guessed this was a sign of contemplation so he held his peace. "Why not ask Gast? He is much more approachable than Hojo."

"He's dead," Zack answered flatly and watched Vincent blink again, more rapidly this time. Huh. Surprise, maybe?

"I see," the other man said at last. "Hojo finally killed him."

Zack arched an eyebrow, caught a little off guard by the word choice. "Finally? What's that supposed to mean?"

Something dark entered and exited Vincent's gaze quickly, but not fast enough to escape notice. Pain, regret? Who knew. "They never got along. Hojo hated him."

"Why?"

Vincent didn't respond and behind them the pandemonium returned to a manageable, more normal level as Yuffie was shoved from the room to cool off and Reno sworn to silence by a furious Tifa. Zack waited for a tense moment, unsure of how to proceed in the face of Vincent's stony silence. Apparently, the odd man had said all he was going to on the subject and now was happily going back to pretending Zack didn't exist.

Just great. Another Sephiroth.

And it was a bit of a shock that the knife didn't dig in as deep as before with that little, traitorous thought.

"So, we have to go to Icicle Inn," he began, stepping into Leader Mode to escape his troubling thoughts and still existent inner demons. And no, he wasn't in denial. At all. "Let's plan our route."

"We're going to need air transport," Reno spoke up immediately, ignoring his earlier vow of silence and Tifa's warning glare.

"We can borrow one o' my babies," Cid fired back with a fierce grin. "I've missed 'em."

Conversation began to flow, and Zack easily lost himself in the details.

* * *

Elena looked…

-_Stunning, breathtaking, beautiful, furious, amazing- _

Elena just _looked, _and his breath caught in his throat as she walked up to him with the green dress flowing around her feet and her hair piled into an intricate design on her head with dozens of flower pins, wobbling a little from never-worn heels, but still…

He shook himself from his stupor quickly, rearranging his face into the usual smirk and burying all the odd butterflies stirring in his stomach. After all, it was only Elena—but maybe that was the problem. Fighting off the urge to go bang his head against something until his mind cooperated, Rufus maintained the smirk when Elena stopped in front of him with a scowl marring her features.

"I hate you," she declared, brushing her hands along the dress and looking highly uncomfortable.

The smile the smirk morphed into wasn't a mask for anything for once. "I believe you have informed me of that already, Elena."

Elena raised her chin and fire sparked in her eyes—the same fire that had propelled her to the lofty status of the first female Turk, the same fire that had helped her survive the slums before that, the same fire that had made him notice her all those years ago. "I know, sir. I just felt the need to say it again. In case it didn't sink in the first time."

Rufus chuckled now, feeling closer to happiness than he had felt for awhile and even the pain was overshadowed for the moment. With a slightly teasing bow, he extended an arm graciously. "Shall we?"

With a quiet, irritated huff, Elena delicately laced her arm through his and allowed him to lead her to the elevator. They entered in silence and he didn't let go as they glided down to the first floor, thoroughly enjoying the slightly uncomfortable look seeping out from beneath Elena's normally impassive mask and the warmth of her arm through his. He only admitted to the former, though. At last, the elevator slid to a stop and they walked out the front doors to the waiting limo.

Once inside, Elena took the seat opposite him with her back ramrod straight and her legs crossed, revealing glittering green and black heels. Rufus grinned in spite of himself. "I see you bought heels, as well."

She glanced down at her shoes and a slight pink tinge crept over her cheeks before she found something fascinating out the tinted window to stare at as though she wanted to kill it. "Cissnei insisted that I couldn't have a dress without proper shoes."

Rufus nodded sagely, leaning back in his seat. "She was right. It's only proper."

To his surprise when Elena turned back to him she was wearing a teasing smile. "I can't believe I'm discussing _shoes _with you, sir."

Rufus waved a hand, hiding his embarrassment at the barb. "Nonsense. As a member of the elite, I was educated in all proper forms of dress, including those of women."

Elena shook her head, but let his argument stand. Reluctantly, Rufus decided that there had been enough of the games for the moment and a moving car was the perfect place to discuss what he needed to before they reached their destination.

"Tonight my father is throwing a ball in celebration of launching the rebuilding project of Sector 7." He had to pause to combat the anger that flooded him at the horrible hypocrisy of it all. From the furious look cracking Elena's mask, she needed it, too.

When he was ready, he straightened and continued in a miraculously even voice. "There will be many powerful men there, including some rivals of the company, so my father has promised to keep security low key. You, Cissnei, Rod, and Tseng will be the only Turks, and the other three are to stay out of sight."

Elena shook her head. "Of course, _I'm _the one stuck wearing the dress."

"Well, you're the best at martial arts, and it should be an honor to be personally escorted by the vice president," Rufus couldn't help the final barb.

Elena cast about for an answer for a long moment, before settling on a death glare. "Of course it's an honor, _sir. _I wouldn't dream of thinking otherwise.

Rufus chuckled softly, exchanging a mirthful glance with his bodyguard before forcing himself back into serious territory again. "Anyway, your job will be to keep an eye on all the high level Shinra personnel on the floor—namely Heidegger, Scarlet, the President, and myself. The other three will be spread out keeping an eye on the entire garden."

"Ah, so we're going to the gardens?"

"Yes. The Old Man never does anything half way." Rufus frowned in distaste at his father's lavish habits. "Which means there will also be plenty of wine and other drinks flowing tonight, and that leads to loosened tongues."

Elena smiled with sardonic understanding. "So, you want to get Heidegger drunk in hopes he'll blab about the book?"

"Yes," Rufus replied shortly, irritated by the note of incredulity he'd picked up in Elena's voice.

"I have to admit, sir, that isn't one of your grander plans."

A frustrated, but resigned sigh escaped the vice president and he slumped back against the leather cushions of the car once more, massaging his temple with a gloved hand. "I know, but unfortunately, it's the only plan I have."

Elena nodded—and there was that fire again—curling her fingers into a fist in her lap. "Then we'll just have to make it work."

Her necklace glinted in the dim light of the limo and with the same spark in her eyes, she looked not unlike some kind of angel of death. It was a strange, morbid metaphor, but not uncommon for his somewhat twisted mentality and fitting all the same. A small, insignificant part of him almost wished that this was just a dance, and she was just his date, and that he wasn't dying or on the verge of unraveling a plot that could topple the world.

_Almos_t wished. The qualifier was highly important.

* * *

Yuffie Kisaragi was very _put out. _

She was a ninja and the princess of Wutai and they'd thrown her from the room like some … some _teenager. _Which she sort of was, but that was _not _the point. Stamping one booted foot, the irate ninja flicked some bangs out of her eyes and tried her hardest not to be terrified by the dimly lit tunnel and the chains against the wall. After all, what were they chances of them finding _another _man in a coffin in the basement with red eyes and a golden _claw _for a hand and…

Yeah, she was _so _going to stop there.

And she wasn't scared. Nope, not scared in the least. Besides, there was absolutely nothing else down…

"_Psst. Hey."_

An already very-frightened ninja nearly jumped out of her skin at the soft whisper echoing from somewhere to her left. Clutching her shuriken tightly and cursing herself for somehow jinxing everything—had she forgotten to knock on wood or something?—Yuffie turned slowly and bit back a scream at the sight of a blond-haired boy crouched in the opening of one of the off-shoots of the main tunnel.

"Hey," he repeated and Yuffie raised her weapon, trying to look like a brave warrior instead of a petrified teenager.

"No," she declared firmly at the Probably-Undead Thing. "No more zombies or vampires or freaky experiments! Go _away." _

The Probably-Undead Thing gave her a baffled look. "What? Zombies? Vampires? Are you _serious_?"

Thinking of Coffin Guy, Yuffie shuddered. "Yes. So go away."

The Probably-Undead Thing stood up, palms out in the universal gesture of surrender. "I'm not a zombie or a vampire. I just need to talk to you."

"How did you get in here, then?" Yuffie demanded, beginning to relax a little. The Probably-Undead Thing didn't actually _look _undead. He didn't have red eyes or extremely pale skin or warped features. In fact, as he stepped out into the muted light of the main tunnel he appeared just like a normal, albeit slightly dirty teenager. But that didn't mean he wasn't an escaped experiment of some kind—though if he was, she should feel sorry for him; being trapped down here definitely would _not _be fun.

"Through the back door," he replied, pointing toward the tunnel behind him for emphasis. "I live in the village."

Alarm bells went off in Yuffie's head. The kid lived in the village. The same village Freaky Grandma had come from—the village populated by Shinra employees. That meant this kid was most likely a Shinra spy sent to check up on them and that was decidedly worse than undead things.

The kid let out a tiny squeak of surprise when he suddenly found himself nose to blade with a shuriken. "Whoa, hey!"

"You're a Shinra spy, aren't you? Did the nice villagers send you up here?" Yuffie spat—fear mixing with anger into a potent combination.

The kid shook his head frantically. "N-no! They don't know I'm here. I _swear. _I'm on your side."

Yuffie snorted in disbelieving disdain, but decided that killing the kid in the hallway was a little extreme. So with an angry huff, the ninja shifted her weight and grabbed a fistful of the kid's blue scarf, dragging him forward.

"You're coming with me." She glared, but it was difficult to intimidate someone who was almost the same height. Instead of cowering in fear, he shot her a glare to match her own.

"Let go," the kid demanded, tugging on his scarf. "You're choking me!"

Ignoring his protests, Yuffie hauled him off in the direction of the others. Zack was better at decisions like this. He would be able to tell if the kid was lying. The kid struggled and protested all the way, but Yuffie's father had taught her a valuable skill which she used with ease: selective hearing.

Needless to say, Zack was more than a little surprised when Yuffie burst open the door of the lab with an angry kid held prisoner by a scarf. "Yuffie! What the…?!"

Yuffie shoved the kid forward, and Zack managed to catch him before he hit the dirt. "I apprehended him in the corridor. He's a Shinra spy from the village."

The kid untangled himself from Zacks's grip and with a rather miraculous display of courage, got right up in the ninja's face. "Are you deaf? I said I was on your side!"

"You're lying," Yuffie pushed him away with a roll of her eyes.

The rest of AVALANCHE exchanged bemused glances, a little miffed an being interrupted in the middle of a planning session, as the kid raked a hand through his hair and shook his head, giving Yuffie up as an insane paranoid and a definite lost cause. "Look, you're AVALANCHE, aren't you?"

"What's it you?" Barrett stepped forward, and to the kid's credit he only paled a few shades at the sight of the rebel's intimidating size and metal arm.

"I-I came to warn you." The kid coughed and regained a little of his composure. "Shinra's on it's way. They're sending troops to apprehend you. You shouldn't have told them you were from here. That tipped Mrs. Tindal off."

"Mrs. Tindal?" Tifa asked with an arched eyebrow.

"The freaky old woman," the kid elaborated without missing a beat. Violet eyes swept over them. "She called Shinra. Said AVALANCE was here. You guys need to leave."

Cid grabbed the kid's arm and bent down to peer in his face. "And why should we listen ta you? Why're ya turnin' against your own neighbors, huh?"

Instead of answering, the kid whimpered a bit, trying to pull his arm from Cid's grasp. Ever the healer, Aerith hurried forward and shoved the pilot out of the way. "Stop, you're hurting him!" Cid let go immediately, backing up to make room for Aerith, who bent down and placed gentle hands on the boy's quivering shoulders.

"What's your name?"

"A-Ayden Moor."

"What's wrong, Ayden?" Aerith asked kindly as the others crowded around at her back, varying expressions of concern on their faces—except for Vincent, who remained withdrawn and aloof, watching the proceedings with impassive eyes.

"Nothing," the teenager responded, pulling himself back together swiftly. But Aerith wasn't easily fooled. She had seen this kind of pain too many times in the past few months. Trailing a knowing hand down his arm, she carefully rolled up the sleeve of his black jacket, revealing ugly black marks littering his pale skin. A collective gasp ran through the group.

"You have the plague," Aerith murmured sadly, remembering a girl in Wutai, dying smiles, and braided hair. Ayden pulled free from her grip and retreated to a safe distance, clutching his injured arm to his chest protectively. "Is that why you want to help us?"

"Yeah," Ayden whispered, letting his arm drop back to his side. Steel cased his eyes when he looked back up at them. "I want to go with you."

"No way!" Cid cried immediately, nearly dropping his toothpick. "How old're ya, twelve?"

Ayden straightened in outrage. "Fourteen!"

"Big difference. We still got no time to babysit some kid!"

"I'll die if I stay here!" The teenager cried with clenched fists and blazing eyes. He looked his age, then—young and terrified.

"What?" Zack hurried forward, jumping into the conversation for the first time since Ayden's arrival. "What do you mean?"

"I have the plague. They'll take me away." Mature grief leaked into his eyes, extinguishing some of the fire. "They … they took my father…."

"Why?" Tifa shook her head in confusion as Aerith wrapped a comforting arm around the teenager's shoulders. "Why would they take you because you have the plague?"

"Experimentation," Reno spoke up from the back of the group—gaze haunted. "I didn't think this would come up but … Shinra's been taking people who have the plague from Midgar and other heavily controlled areas. Then they hand them over to the science department."

"Why?" Zack echoed Tifa's earlier question as Ayden's eyes widened in horrified understanding.

"Why do you think? They want to know what's causing the plague, how it's spreading, yadda, yadda, yadda. This is probably a party for Hojo's sick little mind. They say it's humanitarian, but they're not close to finding a cure. I bet they aren't even trying." Reno scoffed and shook his head. "In the end, does Shinra ever need a reason?"

"So … my dad's dead," Ayden muttered dully. "I thought so … but…"

"Where's your mother?" Aerith asked, hoping to chase a little of the sudden glaze from his eyes.

"Dead," he answered in the same monotone. "She died a long time ago." He blinked and focused again, turning pleading eyes to Zack. "So, you see? I _need_ to come with you. It's only a matter of time before they find me!"

Zack sighed, rubbing his neck in a familiar gesture, and hazarded a glance at his comrades. Mixed emotion and uncertainty looked back from each pair of eyes.

"We need to talk about this," the ex-SOLDIER said at last. He motioned toward the door and AVALANCHE filed out of the room silently. "Yuffie, you watch Ayden for me.

"Why do I get stuck babysitting?!" The door closed on the rest of Yuffie's protests.

* * *

The sound of violins reached her ears as she exited the car, pausing to hold the door open for Rufus, who followed her with a dark frown. "You know, usually it is the man's job to hold the door open for the lady."

"I'm not a lady, sir," she fired back, smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress and studiously ignoring the vice president's contemptuous snort. "I'm a Turk."

"Well," Rufus answered dryly, adjusting his gloves, and Elena briefly considered asking about the _black _suit, but decided that this wasn't the time or the place, "it _did _take Reno more than a year to be convinced you were even a woman."

Elena chuckled. "Yeah. I remember that. I wore a dress on an undercover assignment."

"He gaped for a ridiculous amount of time—"

"—and I punched him," Elena finished with a satisfied smirk.

"Broke his nose, if I recall correctly." Rufus began to walk toward the sound of the violins, keeping the pace slow and meandering—and Elena refused to believe it was because he was sympathetic about her wobbling and aching feet.

"Yes. Tseng wasn't pleased."

"Tseng rarely is."

"True."

Silence filled up the space between them—comfortable because of the varying multitude of silences they'd experienced over the years. Soon, the violins grew deafening and Elena could see the glittering lights of the gardens, one of the upper level's prides and joys. A stunning area exploding with color and life in the middle of such a dead city, but nothing in the gardens was the real—even the flowers and the trees.

The only _real _flowers in Midgar grew in a church in the sector five slums. But she doubted any of the snobs gathered here tonight knew that.

A red carpet led to the entrance of the gardens, framed by wrought iron, and lights spread through the branches of fake trees. Rufus paused and pulled her off to the side near some fichus trees, just out of sight of the muscled guards standing ominously on either side of the gate, framing the lady in sparkling black inspecting invitations.

"So much for subtle security," Elena murmured, sizing up the men who were doing a poor impersonation of Rude. They had muscles like granite, but their stances were weak. She could take them in five minutes, maybe even three.

The look of Rufus's face said he knew exactly what kind of thoughts were running through her head and he was unsure of whether to exasperated or amused. "They were hired by the garden. A neutral third party, to help ease some of the tensions, supposedly."

Elena snorted in very unladylike fashion and was pleased to see a tiny smile appear in the corner of Rufus's mouth. Making Rufus Shinra smile was an art form—mostly the vice president just sighed and rubbed his temples a lot. "What do you want me to do, sir?"

"Find Heidegger and Scarlet and keep an eye on them. See if you can't get Heidegger to drink, though that shouldn't be a problem." He paused briefly and then gave here his trademark smirk. "And dance with me at least once."

She frowned. Honestly, he seemed determined to make a fool out of her. "I can't dance," she answered flatly.

He arched an eyebrow. "I know for a fact Tseng gave you lessons."

"That doesn't mean I learned anything, sir," Elena shot back.

Rufus sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look, Elena, I'm not doing this to humiliate you. The goal is to act natural, and if my date does not dance with me for the entirety of the evening, it will look highly suspicious. Which is something we want to avoid."

Unfortunately, like always, he was right. Elena mimicked his sigh and nodded reluctantly. "Very well, sir. But don't blame me if I step on your feet."

Rufus brushed imaginary dust off his suit jacket, flicking any mental cobwebs away as well, she knew, and stood straight, looking every inch the spoiled brat the world thought he was. "Every time you step on my foot, I'll dock your pay."

Elena smiled at him pleasantly as she rested her hand on the crook of his arm, trying to give off the air of a high society lady—and if her hand trembled a little when she laid it against the warm fabric of his jacket, who was to know? "That's an awfully rude way to treat your _date. _I could just let you get shot. Or let Scarlet at you."

Rufus shuddered slightly. "Fine, you win this round, Elena. I just request _strongly _that you avoid crippling me."

"I will do my absolute best, sir."

They stepped back onto the carpet, taking their place behind a woman who was sparkling so much it was almost blinding. Elena had never seen so much jewelry, even on Scarlet. The man didn't seemed to enjoy being so dazzled either from the way he looked in every single direction but his date.

Rich people were so hilarious.

She glanced over at Rufus, who was eyeing the security with open contempt befitting of his status, and bit back another smile. Rich people were hilarious, yes, _except_ Rufus Shinra.

For some reason or another, he was different.

* * *

**Okay, this note will be a little longer than usual, but I felt the need to justify a few things, namely one. I have done the unthinkable: decided to put an OC in my story. I honestly don't know how it happened. I was thinking of someone to have some comic interaction with Yuffie and this kid popped into my head, personality and everything and said: "Write me! Write me!" To which I replied: "No! I don't DO OCs." **

**We argued back and forth for awhile, and I considered other options, including using Denzel. But I decided against this for several reasons. 1. Denzel was too young, and I didn't really feel like changing his age. 2. His personality didn't fit, he wasn't outgoing enough to be able to compete with Yuffie. And 3. Well, Denzel is cool and all but I'm not a huge fan. **

**So, I finally decided to give my OC a spin. It's a little nerve-wracking for me, simply because I avoid OCs like the plague, unless they are VERY minor characters. All too often they are Mary-sues, or in the story for ridiculous reasons, so I was wary of fighting the stigma on this. However, I've started to overcome my paranoia with my Naruto story, which requires an entire cast of OCs, and am now looking at this as a way to develop my writing skills by practicing character creation and development. **

** So, everyone meet Ayden Moor. I promise he has been submitted to a vigorous regimen of Mary Sue tests and merely exists for Yuffie to pick on, Barrett to terrify, Reno to corrupt, and maybe to let Aerith and Zack practice their parenting skills. If anyone is interested looks-wise he's based heavily off Hope Estheim from FF13. I know he's been newly introduced, but feel free to give me first impressions and please, take a little time to get to know him. If, even then he is not liked, I'll write him out of the story. (geostigma makes that very easy. ^_^). As always, I'm open to constructive criticism. **

**Coming up next--**plans, debates, and a drunk Heidegger.


	37. XXXIV: On the Knife Edge

**So, four months. And this chapter is downright evil. Heh. I _promise _that it will not be four months before I update this. I'm not that cruel, and I apologize profusely for making you wait that long. I also wholeheartedly apologize for my horrendous failure at writing drunk!speak. I've never been good at that kind of thing. **

**Hopefully, this chapter is still enjoyable in spite of that and the possibly bad action scenes. I'm rusty, forgive me. (I think I should just paint a sign or make a T-shirt with that phrase or something.) **

**Anyway, thank you all for the ridiculous amount of support you've shown this story. Plushies for all, and feel free to review. ;) **

**

* * *

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Three hours into the evening from Hell, it was a miracle Heidegger hadn't spilled wine all over her ridiculously expensive dress. As the man started on his fifth glass of the evening with unsurprising relish, Elena fought the urge to grimace in disgust. The red liquid dribbled down his beard and would have stained his suit if he hadn't wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Letting out a low burp, he turned to leer at her and resume their halting conversation.

"Where were we?" he asked with an unmistakable slur to his words.

Elena smoothed her dress in what she hoped was a pompous manner and did her best to stare down her nose at him, even though she had to actually look _up _to make eye contact. "You were telling me about your job." She infused as much fake interest into her voice as possible and was rewarded with a wide grin.

"Right! I was tellin' you 'bout my projects." He laughed, sounding a lot like the few horses Elena had seen on one of her trips out of Midgar, and took another long gulp from his glass.

Elena nodded, wondering if her smile would be permanently stuck on after tonight. "Yes. You mentioned that you work with Scarlet?"

Heidegger snorted, still sounding like a horse. "Bah. She works _for _me, not _with _me. There's a diffr'ence."

"Of course," Elena replied smoothly. "That was what I meant. So what are you working on?"

Heidegger shook his head dramatically, waving a finger in her face. "Nope. Can't tell you. It's a _secret." _

She put on her best flirting face, draping herself over his shoulder like a few other of the limpets she'd seen around earlier and tamping down on her revulsion. Batting her eyelashes at him, she desperately hoped she looked seductive and not merely stupid. "C'mon. I promise I won't tell _anyone. _Just a hint. Please?"

Apparently it worked, because the lecherous grin returned to Heidegger's face and he wrapped a thick hand around her waist, pulling her closer against his side. Then he leaned over to whisper dramatically in her ear. "'S a book. A really, really, really old book. I keep it locked up 'n my office. Safe in a safe." He paused to laugh uproariously at that. "Anyway, you can't tell nobody, or the presido-president will be mad, got it?"

Elena nodded solemnly and made a showy display of sealing her lips and throwing away the key. He laughed again—horse-like and right her face, making her gag on the overwhelming stench of alcohol—and moved his hand from her waist toward less appropriate places. "I like you, girly!"

She was debating whether or not to deck him or just stand and take it like the professional she was supposed to be, when a smooth voice cut off Heidegger drunken mumblings. "May I borrow the lady for a dance? She promised me one."

She turned her head and saw Rufus in all his black-suited glory smiling demurely at Heidegger. The drunken Shinra officer peered at her contemplatively, clearing not wanting to give up what he considered to be his prize. The urge to punch him in the face grew stronger. Instead, she cobbled together another plastic smile.

"I _did_ promise him."

With a frustrated huff, Heidegger released her, practically shoving her into Rufus's arms. "Fine. But I wanna dance next."

"Of course." She could only hope that he had drunk himself into a stupor by then. Fortunately, it didn't seem like a fruitless hope when he turned to stumble back in the direction of the refreshment bar.

Rufus watched him go with dark eyes, looking angry to the point of fury—though Elena hadn't the slightest clue _why. _ Even when Heidegger was being a complete nuisance Rufus showed little emotion around him. Before she could ask him, he pulled her onto the dance floor with the other brightly-colored twirling couples—effortlessly sliding into the rhythm of a waltz. She cursed him as she tried not to trip over her own feet, desperately pulling up the memories of the dance lessons Tseng had drilled into her.

She still stepped on his foot twice before she found the rhythm. He winced, but didn't complain, and her anger at being forced to dance in _heels _abated fractionally.

"What did you learn?" He asked as he swept her across the expansive dance floor.

"They're keeping the book in a safe in Heidegger's office," she replied quietly as they narrowly avoided colliding with a bumbling couple in red.

Rufus frowned thoughtfully, adjusting his grip on her waist to spin her in a different direction. "That's going to make things difficult. Heidegger hardly ever leaves Midgar."

Elena managed a fair imitation of his trademark smirk. "Well, then, we'll just have to find a way to get him out of Midgar, sir."

Rufus echoed the smirk. "I like the way you think, Elena." He moved her into a little twirl, and she was inwardly amazed she executed it without serious bodily harm. When her hand found its place back on Rufus's shoulder, she saw a hint of surprise in his blue gaze. "You're a much better dancer than you let on."

She grimaced in spite of his praise. "My feet are killing me. Whoever invented heels should be shot."

He huffed a quiet laugh, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "I'm sure a tough Turk like you can handle it, Elena."

In response Elena dug her fingers into his shoulder, savoring his sharp wince. "Perhaps you would like to wear the heels, _sir, _and let me know what you think."

He gave her a slightly pained smile. "I believe I'll pass on that generous offer."

She grinned teasingly at him, surprised to find herself actually _enjoying _dancing with him even though her feet ached and her dress felt scratchy and uncomfortable—such a stark change from her well-worn suit. The light in his eyes, mocking and bright, and the hint of a rare genuine smile lurking in the corner of his mouth was enough to make everything else fall away. A part of her wanted to pretend that this was just a date, she was just a girl, and he was just a boy who had invited her out for an evening on the town.

From the way his eyes softened subtly, he might have been sharing those same thoughts. "Elena—"

_Bang! _

It happened instantly—so fast she wasn't able to even sense the danger. One second he had been speaking, the next he was lurching forward into her, clutching the back of her dress to keep himself upright, and she could feel warm blood painting across her skin.

_His _blood.

She gasped and held onto him tightly, feeling Turk instincts rapidly taking over. She swiftly lowered him to the floor and stood protectively over him, drawing the knife from its hiding place in her dress. It wouldn't stand up against a sniper's rifle, but it was better than nothing. Her eyes quickly scanned the rapidly panicking crowd, searching for possible sources of the shot, but it was difficult to see anything through the blur of bodies and colors.

Tseng materialized beside her, weapon drawn, and pressed a gun into her hand. She clicked the safety off hurriedly and spared a glance down at Rufus, whose eyes were closed—blood rapidly spreading across his black suit and onto the ground beneath him.

"Did you see where the shot came from?" She barked at Tseng, fighting down the raging worry and guilt at failing him tearing through her. She hadn't even _noticed… _

Tseng shook his head. "Rod believes it came from one of the northern balconies, but it happened so suddenly it was difficult to tell."

Elena grit her teeth, swearing this was the _last _time she agreed to minimum security. "Plan of action, sir?"

"Get him out of here," Tseng nodded toward Rufus's limp form. "Rod is already escorting the President out. Cissnei and I will look for the sniper."

"Understood." Elena holstered her knife and knelt beside Rufus, stubbornly ignoring the bloodstains on her green dress. Already garden security was rushing to form a protective barrier around them, and she could hear Tseng barking orders to them but she blocked them out. Rufus was her only concern.

His eyes fluttered open, tight with pain, and a trembling hand reached up to clasp his shoulder where she hoped the bullet wound was. If it was in his shoulder, he would be fine—just stuck in a sling and grumpy for a few weeks. Anywhere else and they might lose him.

She refused to contemplate that possibility.

"Elena?" he croaked as she slid an arm under him, across his shoulders, and helped lever him upright, eliciting a hiss of pain.

"Easy, sir." She kept her tone blank and professional, hoping to provide stability in the midst of the turmoil raging all around them.

After a few starts and stops, they were standing—Rufus leaning heavily against her. Tseng was gone, vanished into the crowd in search of the would-be assassin. The garden security regarded her nervously, waiting for direction—and no doubt they had never faced a situation like this before. Elena leveled them with a cold stare, wanting to rip them a new one for allowing a sniper onto the grounds, but there wasn't time. Rufus's blood was still soaking through her dress.

"Help us to the front entrance and call for the Vice President's limo."

They nodded and a group rushed toward the exit, parting the crowd on all sides with their bulk. Other security guards were working on organizing an orderly evacuation, but Elena only had attention for Rufus. Too slowly, they managed to reach the entrance, and she let out a soft breath of relief at the sight of the sleek black limo idling by the curb.

One of the guards opened the door for her and she bundled Rufus inside, struggling not to jostle his wound too much. He still gasped and curled away from her in pain, clutching at his shoulder with splayed, bloody fingers. She knelt in front of him on the floor, tearing at the hem of her dress with little care for the expensive fabric.

"Such … a shame." She glanced up at him and saw hazy blue eyes blinking down at her.

"What is?"

"The dress," he croaked with a whispery laugh. "It … looked good … on you."

She shook her head, tugging his hand away from the wound so she could wrap layers of green fabric around it. "I believe the dress is the last of our worries, sir."

"I want you … to treat … the wound, Elena." He trailed off into a wheeze as she pulled the bindings tight to staunch the blood flow.

"What?" she asked sharply, wondering if she had heard him correctly.

"I want you .. to treat me. No one … else."

"Sir…"

"_No one else, _Elena." He pushed as much strength as possible into his words and his gaze was fierce, demanding obedience without any further question. She found that she could not disagree with that fiery look, even though she was hardly a medic. Her emergency training would have to suffice, though _why _he was so insistent on the matter worried her.

What was he hiding?

"Very well, sir," she replied, keeping her thoughts to herself for the moment.

He nodded gratefully and sank back against the leather seats—eyes sliding closed again with a pained sigh.

Elena sat back on her heels and forced herself to keep breathing.

* * *

"He can't stay with us!" Barrett's gun arm cracked against the cave wall for emphasis.

"Why not?" Aerith demanded, surprisingly aggressive with her clenched fists and blazing eyes. "If we leave him here, he'll die!"

"C'mon, Flower Girl, we can't cart a kid with us up to the Northern Crater," Reno drawled condescendingly. "He'll probably get eaten by a monster or something."

Tifa punched him roughly in the shoulder, sending him sideways a step. "Don't say things like that!"

"So we should just leave him here to be picked up by Shinra?" Aerith asked scathingly, turning to direct her glare at Reno, who fidgeted sheepishly.

"We don't know that he'll get picked up by Shinra," Cid argued, chomping steadily on his toothpick.

"He will." Cloud's eyes were full of dark certainty, and Zack placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Cloud's right." He glanced around at the tension-filled group. "We can't just abandon the kid here to die."

"He'll only slow us down," Reno countered—ever the pragmatic Turk.

"We _aren't _leaving him." Zack's voice left no room for argument and with a few quiet grumblings, the group yielded to his decision. Aerith planted a grateful kiss on his cheek, creating a rather unmanly blush to flare up, but her smile melted away his embarrassment.

"Thank you," she said, and he grinned brightly at her in response.

Cid hurried them forward to the next topic with crossed arms and a dark scowl. "Okay fine, we're taking the kid. Now can we talk about how we're gonna _get _to Icicle Inn without Shinra noticin'?"

Zack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was hoping you guys would have some ideas."

"First we have to reach the Northern Continent itself before trying to tackle Icicle Inn," Red pointed out with a dramatic swish of his tail, sending Cait Sith skittering out of the way with an alarmed yelp.

"We're going to need an airship," Tifa remarked with a pointed glance in Cid's direction.

"Which means back to Rocket Town, it is," Zack huffed, wondering why they had even bothered with Chocobos.

"We can take the _Highwind." _Cid's eyes glowed with pride. "She ain't a real big ship. Shinra won't notice she's gone missin' but she'll get us to the Northern Crater just fine."

"Are ya sure we should risk goin' back to Rocket Town?" Barrett asked dubiously. "We've been there twice already an' nearly got caught once. It's risky."

"My creator will make sure Shinra is looking the other way," Cait Sith chirped, looking entirely too cheerful about the whole thing—but then again, cheerful _was _he default and really only expression, so he couldn't exactly be blamed.

"Well, how do we know we can trust yer creator?" Barrett griped, scowling at the little robot with disdain.

"You can trust him," Reno spoke for Cait Sith. "Reeve never goes back on his word. And he's got a bleeding heart. He won't abandon you."

Barrett snorted contemptuously but let the issue slide. Zack breathed a soft sigh of relief. "So, we'll head back to Rocket Town and steal the _Highwind, _then what? We can't land the ship in Icicle Inn. It'll look too suspicious."

"Bone Village." Reno pushed himself off the wall, a satisfied smirk on his face. "We can steal a Shinra craft from there. The archeologists live in their own world, digging for Ancient treasure. They won't notice a ship is gone for awhile, I bet."

Vincent canted an inquisitive look in Reno's direction. "You seem to derive a lot of pleasure from stealing things."

Reno's grin took another step toward maniacal. "If it's Shinra stuff, yeah."

Vincent made a small noise of either acknowledgement or agreement, Zack couldn't tell, but there was a pleased light in his eyes. The ex-SOLDIER had a sneaking suspicion, the man would also derive a lot of pleasure from stealing "Shinra stuff" in the same way they all did. It was kind of like a twisted requirement for being in AVALANCE.

"So, we'll make for Rocket Town, then Bone Village, then Icicle Inn, correct?" Tifa asked, summing up the impromptu planning session.

"Sounds good to me." Zack clapped his hands together and let his gaze rove across the faces of his comrades, sensing their varying degrees of determination, apprehension, and excitement. He could feel all the same emotions bubbling up within himself—undercut by a renewed sense of purpose. For too long it felt as though they had been grasping straws in the dark, but now they had a place to go, a trail to follow, and maybe they could get some answers to the mysteries surrounding them.

It felt like hope. Hope for the first time in ages, and he couldn't stop the grin.

Even Cloud's eyes were a little lighter—a smile barely visible on his lips.

Yes, they could all use some hope.

* * *

When they ventured back into the room, Ayden Moor looked up at them with questioning violet eyes from his nervous position by the bookshelf. Zack tuned out Yuffie's angry demands to be included in the next meeting and not left to babysit some snot-nosed brat who couldn't stay still—since the hypocrisy of her words was painfully hilarious—and crossed the floor to lay a steadying hand on the kid's shoulder.

"You can stay, kid."

Ayden relaxed and for a second it looked as though he might actually hug Zack out of pure relief, but instead he drew himself up and gave the ex-SOLDIER a grateful, if solemn, nod. "Thank you."

"Just don't get eaten by a monster or something," Reno remarked caustically on his way past.

Ayden's eyes widened and his skin paled at least a shade. As Aerith hurried over to comfort him, Tifa punched Reno again—nearly forcing the Turk to the ground. "What did I tell you about saying stuff like that?"

Ayden's eye grew rounder and larger, resembling dinner plates, and while Zack felt bad for the poor kid—who had no idea what kind of company he'd stepped into—his stricken expression was kind of hilarious. "You'll get used to them." He patted the teenager comfortingly on the back. "Just give it some time."

Ayden's hand was a little shaky as he ran it through his hair. "Right." All things considered, though, the kid really had remarkable composure for someone so young. It reminded him a little of Cloud—Cloud from Before—and that hurt in deep and unforgettable places of his heart.

"Zack." Speaking of Cloud. He looked up to see the blond peering at the ceiling wearing a concentrated expression that was slowly morphing into alarm.

Letting go of Ayden's shoulder, Zack hurried to his friend's side. "What is it?"

"Someone's up there," Cloud muttered—eyes dark.

A few feet away Vincent glanced sharply at the ceiling. "I hear it, too."

Frowning, Zack closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing all his mako-enhanced hearing on the floor above. After a long second he heard it—dull thuds echoing across the floor, like marching footsteps, like soldiers, like _Shinra. _Zack's eyes flew open, fear and alarm punching the air from his chest.

"Shinra's here," he breathed.

"An entire platoon, by the sound of it," Vincent added helpfully as AVALANCHE traded shocked and fearful looks.

"Great, just great," Cid grumbled, spitting out his toothpick in exchange for a new one. Where he got his seemingly endless supply, Zack would never know.

Yuffie wrenched her shuriken free of its holster and raised it before her like a sword. "C'mon, guys, we can take a platoon!"

"We can only _hear _a platoon," Cloud corrected absently—still focused on the ceiling. "That doesn't mean that there's more up there."

"Where in Gaia's name did they come from? Shinra usually isn't that efficient," Reno grumbled, fingering his EMR in jittery anticipation.

Ayden's eyes were large and vulnerable in his pale face. "Mrs. Tindal must've called them."

"How did they get here so quickly?" Tifa worried eyes betrayed her fierce tone as she followed Cloud's gaze to the ceiling.

Zack shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe they were already searching nearby for us. Does it really matter? We've only got a couple minutes before they find the entrance to this place. It sounds like they're combing the first floor right now."

Aerith hurried across the room to the map, folding it up in several smooth strokes and stuffing it into one of the pockets on her brown jacket. "We need to get out of here."

"How?" Barrett barked. "They're up there blockin' the way out."

"There's another door." Cloud shot a questioning look at Zack for confirmation. "Right?"

"Yeah," Zack closed his eyes and wracked his drug-hazed memories for the location of the back door he had used to escape the Shinra Manor a year and a half ago.

"I know where it is!" Ayden piped up, taking a few quick steps toward the group. "It's how I got in here."

Cid gave Ayden an encouraging nudge that was probably a little more forceful than strictly necessary. "Go on then, kid. Lead the way."

"Yeah, quickly if you don't mind," Reno added.

Ayden nodded gravely and scrambled forward, throwing the door to the labs open. Above them, the footsteps were louder, more insistent, indicating the presence of far more than just a platoon. Zack guessed that was somewhat understandable with AVALANCHE being the most wanted group of people on the Planet and all. He fought the urge to draw his sword as Ayden led them down a twisting series of tunnels, heading in the opposite direction of the way they had gone to find Vincent. Only his mako eyes kept him from stumbling constantly in the growing dark as the lamplight dimmed the further they moved away from the lab.

More footsteps echoed through the tunnel, and now he could make out the low murmur of voices passing orders back and forth. The grunts had found the entrance.

"Faster!" He hissed to his comrades and everyone picked up the pace, moving at almost a dead sprint down the narrowing passageway.

At last, Ayden screeched to a stop in front of a large metal door carved into the mountainside. Zack blinked at it with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. This was definitely the way he had come with Cloud all those months ago. Ayden groped along the wall until he found the control box situated just to the left of the door and slammed his hand down on it with all his strength.

The door began to creak and groan loudly as it slid open inch by sluggish inch.

Zack glanced nervously over his shoulder. The troops would have to be deaf not to have heard all the racket the door was making, which meant their window have escape had just been reduced exponentially.

Peachy.

"Won't this damn thing open any faster?" Barrett snarled, glaring at the old door as though he could cow it into submission by willpower alone.

Ayden tugged at his scarf. "N-no, sorry."

Barrett began cursing a blue streak while the rest of AVALANCHE drew their weapons and the footsteps escalated into approaching thunder.

"Everyone who can fit through the opening goes now," Zack ordered, falling into a defensive stance. "The rest of us will hold them off."

"But—!" Aerith cried, rushing forward in protest.

Tifa grabbed her arm, hauling her toward the slowly widening crack in the door. "Come on. We have to protect the map." She raised stormy eyes to Zack. "Don't you _dare_ die."

Zack gave them both a tired but encouraging smile. "I promise. I'll see you soon."

"You'd better keep that promise." Aerith's eyes were tearful, but iron-coated. "I'm not losing you after everything we've been through."

"I _promise,_" Zack repeated, trying to convey how _much _he meant those simple words with one look alone.

Aerith saw and clenched her jaw in reluctant acceptance, following Tifa out the door with Ayden, Red, and Cait Sith trailing close behind. Zack gave the gap an assessing glance, and nodded at Cloud. "You, too, buddy. You can fit."

Cloud's eyes were fierce—a hurricane of blue and mako green. "I'm _not _leaving you."

"They're going to need protection. There's probably more soldiers in the town. I'll be fine. Go." He pointed at the door as the footsteps got louder still. The troopers were almost on top of them now—any minute and they would be pouring into the small space like cockroaches.

Cloud shook his head adamantly. "Tifa can take care of them."

"_Go,_ Cloud. That's an _order," _Zack pointed again and raised his sword threateningly.

Cloud's eyes were sharp and green. "I'm not letting you throw away your life!"

"I'll be _fine_," Zack insisted. "For the last time, _go!" _

Cloud hovered near the door, looking ready to protest further. Frustrated, Zack moved the sword in his direction, preparing for a swing. "_GO!" _

With a quiet snarl, Cloud slipped through the gap in the door into the night, racing down the mountain toward the others. Zack breathed a soft sigh of relief, and turned his attention to Reno. The ex-Turk was already stepping toward the door—EMR clutched in a white-knuckled grip. He looked almost as torn as Cloud, leveling Zack with a stare that was surprisingly intense, bordering on emotional.

"As soon as this door opens enough you'd better go through it, Fair. If I end up stuck with a heartbroken Flower Girl I'm going to make your life _hell, _dead or not." Zack managed a laugh that cracked halfway through, in spite of how unbalanced Reno's unexpected concern made him feel.

"I swear, Reno."

The other man dipped his head in tense acknowledgement and squeezed himself through the gap, which was only an inch or so wider than before. How he and Cloud had managed to escape this way was beyond him—maybe the place had been mostly abandoned. The remaining four members of AVALANCHE turned to face the opening just as the first of the Shinra grunts spilled through, guns already firing.

Zack blocked the first flurry of bullets with his sword and charged into their midst with a grim smirk. The other three moved with him, shooting and slashing, and the world rapidly descended into a hailstorm of chaos.

* * *

The stars twinkled almost serenely overhead as Reno darted down the winding mountain path that trailed along the outskirts of the village. He paused when he heard the firefight start, fingers bleaching white across his EMR as he fought off the overwhelming urge to turn around and go back to the fight. It wasn't like him to run away, even if he disliked needless conflict.

But this was hardly needles conflict. Those were his _comrades _back there, and somewhere over the past couple weeks spent in their twisted company he had come to care for them—even Metal Arm and Lockhart with her insufferable temper and ridiculously fast fists. It took every drop of his willpower to force his feet down the path, away from the exit and the furious battle.

Fair had asked him to protect Flower Girl, and he would honor what could be the man's last wish—because in spite of his earlier words, he knew their chances of survival were slim. He used to be a Turk, after all. Death was nothing new and easily predictable when you had been doling it out in various forms for years.

He could hear the rest of the group further down the trail as he rounded a corner, but before he could put on a burst of speed to close the distance, something moved in the corner of his eye. He skidded to a stop and whirled to face the trees surrounding the trail, thumbing the EMR into the 'on' position.

Silence.

Undeterred, he continued to scan the forest, searching for the source of the movement. The shadow moved again, far to his left—quick but not enough to escape notice and not shaped right to be an animal. Gritting his teeth, Reno holstered his EMR in favor of his gun, clicking off the safety loudly as a warning. He didn't expect an answering click and the thunder of a gun firing. Throwing himself sideways with instinctive energy, he managed to dodge the bullet and find refuge behind a tree, pressing himself up against the bark and leveling the gun across his chest—calculations and thoughts whirling through his head.

No grunt could fire that quickly and accurately, or move so stealthily.

He was facing a Turk.

Taking a steadying breath to calm his nerves, Reno narrowed down the possibilities. Not Elena, for she wouldn't leave Rufus's side, or Tseng, who stayed close to the president at all times. That left Cissnei, Rod, or Rude, and he hadn't gotten a close enough look at the shadow to notice build or height.

Well, there was one way to fix that.

Reno briefly abandoned his cover and fired several rapid shots in the shadow's direction. They thudded loudly into the tree trunk, hurling splinters of bark into the air. Reno paused in the open, waiting with his breath caught in his throat. As expected, the shadow moved out from behind the trunk, firing in hopes of catching Reno before he could retreat back to safety. In the wan moonlight, the ex-Turk caught a brief glimpse of his opponent's features before he darted back to his tree, bullets kicking up the dirt around his feet.

Safe behind his tree-haven, he let his head thump back against the bark and tried to stifle the pain cutting into his chest.

Rude. _Rude _was out there, shooting at him, trying to _kill _him.

With a shaky breath, Reno reloaded and spoke for the first time, casting his voice out into the forest so Rude could hear. "Hey, Rude, long time no see."

"Reno," Rude's deep voice answered after a pregnant pause, "I knew you were still alive. Just wasn't your style."

Reno chuckled in spite of the situation—happy to hear Rude's voice again, even after everything. "I thought it was exactly my style."

"For _faking _your death. You wouldn't have really let yourself get taken out in a helicopter crash. Too stubborn." He thought he could hear the traces of a smile in Rude's voice, and it felt like being shot in the chest.

"Well, you know that means I'm not about to let myself die _here, _either, partner." His finger pulsed over the trigger, waiting for the eye of the storm to pass and the hurricane to begin again.

"What do you think you're doing, Reno?" Rude's voice was harsher than Reno had ever heard it, and another metaphorical bullet sunk beneath his skin.

_I'm sorry, _he wanted to say, but he wasn't, not really, and Rude would hear the lie. "Well, right now trying not to get shot." He kept his voice light, dodging around the true meaning of the question.

Rude's answering tone was anything but amused. "You know what I mean. Leaving the company, joining _them. _You suicidal?"

"Nah, just crazy," Reno joked, wondering if he would be able to shoot Rude when the time came.

"_Reno." _Rude sounded pained and raw, and it _hurt. _

"I couldn't stay," Reno muttered, casting the jokes aside. They had no real place here, anyway. "Not after what they made me do."

"It was to stop AVALANCHE."

"It was _murder!_" Reno shouted back, letting loose more emotion than intended. "They slaughtered thousands of people for nothing, Rude!"

Silence. Maybe Rude had exhausted his short supply of words.

Finally, "I can't just let you walk away, Reno."

Reno brought his gun back up to his chest, staring out into the night with unseeing eyes—too caught up in the frustration and pain steadily slicing his composure to ribbons. "Don't make me kill you, Rude."

Because they both knew the truth—in a firefight, the faster, more agile Reno would easily emerge the victor. Rude was brute strength, unstoppable with his fists, and Reno was fluid grace and precision. If Rude pushed the conflict further, he would die with a bullet to the skull or the chest … presuming Reno had the strength of will to make the shot and kill the man who had been his friend and comrade in arms for almost a decade.

And right now, so frayed and emotional, he doubted he could.

"Reno…." Rude's voice was stern, but he hadn't fired yet, and that had to be something.

"Just … forget about duty, about Shinra, for once and walk away, Rude. As my _friend, _walk away. I don't want to kill you."

He rode out the ensuing silence with a sweaty grip on his gun and bottom teeth tearing his lip to shreds, praying to whoever might be left out there that Rude wouldn't shoot.

"Next time I see you, Reno, I won't ignore my duty," Rude said at last—cold and unforgiving, but he was still walking away, boots cracking the underbrush faintly as he retreated.

Reno listened to him go, shaking with relief and eyes wide and dry, begging to cry.

No tears came, none at all, but the crack in his chest widened.

Then the sound of gunfire filled the forest, startling him so badly he nearly dropped his weapon.

* * *

Cloud caught up with the rest of the group right as they collided headlong with a Shinra patrol. Tifa was a whirlwind of fists and whipping brown hair, pulling off complicated martial arts sets that landed soldiers in the dirt faster than they could fire. Aerith cracked helmets and weapons alike with her spinning staff while Yuffie screamed Wutai battle cries as she flung her shuriken in deadly arcs and Red attacked with teeth and claws and his flaming tail. Ayden stood off to the side, clutching a trembling Cait Sith to his chest as he watched the battle unfold with wide eyes.

Cloud changed course and rushed toward him, intercepting a soldier about to fire with a vicious slash to the chest. As the body hit the ground at Ayden's feet, the blond teenager flinched and took a staggering step backward. Cloud planted himself firmly in front of the terrified boy, deflecting bullets with his sword.

"You okay, kid?" He yelled over the din.

"I-I'm fine." Ayden stammered back, hunching over Cait Sith and looking anything but.

For now, his word would have to do, though, as another unit spilled out of the trees. Cloud growled in frustration, knowing the others would be rapidly overwhelmed by the new arrivals. Whirling, he wrenched a knife free from his boot holster—Zack's idea, and thank Gaia for it—and handed it to Ayden, who curled shaking fingers around the hilt.

"Take this and run. Hide in the forest." Ayden opened his mouth to protest. "_Now."_

With a jerky nod, the teenager spun and sprinted deeper into the forest, still carrying Cait Sith under one arm. Once he vanished from sight, Cloud turned his attention back to the battle, lunging into the fray with several well-placed slashes, cutting a path toward Tifa and Aerith trapped in the middle of battle.

"Cloud!" Tifa cried in relief when he stopped beside her, driving his sword into a grunt's chest. "Where are the others?"

"Not here yet." He tried not think of Zack and what could have been good-bye.

"There's too many of them!" Yuffie yelled from several feet away, landing a hard kick to a trooper's chin. The man crumpled to the ground in a heap and didn't move again.

"We need to cut a path," Red responded as he spit out the remains of some unfortunate trooper's pant leg.

Cloud spun his sword into attack position as the troopers reassumed formation in front of them. There were only two dozen or so left—not too much of a problem—and they looked nervous, taken aback by AVALANCHE's ferocious desperation.

"Let's end this." Tifa's eyes flashed with the spirit of battle as she raised bloodstained gloves. In the moonlight, she looked like some kind of avenging angel.

Aerith fell in beside her, not nearly as maniacal but just as determined—staff held in front of her like a shield—and Cloud took his place at her side, followed swiftly by Yuffie and Red.

Together AVALANCHE stared down the enemy, waiting. The tension hung thick in the air, filling each ragged breath and weighing down each slight shift of movement—like the Planet itself was holding its breath.

A bold trooper raised his rifle, finger poised precariously over the trigger. Cloud moved in a blur of black and blond, sword swinging and mako eyes glowing with the promise of death.

The shot cracked through the silence.

* * *

**See, I told you it was evil. Don't kill me? **

**Coming up next-**startling revelations, fierce skirmishes, and more Chocobos.


	38. XXXV: Breathing Space

**Yes, thine eyes dost not deceive you. This is indeed an update. And I have nothing to say except that I am very sorry it took such an obscene amount of time and I hope that this chapter might make up for a little bit of the agonizing wait. **

**PLEASE NOTE: I have changed a few minor details in Cloud's back story (mainly because I felt like it but it some of it will serve a purpose later on).  
**

**Also, if thee feeleth so inclined and dost not hateth me, please revieweth.**

**Peaceth outeth.  
**

* * *

Cloud slashed the grunt swiftly across the chest, ignoring the brief flash of pain that tore through his side, and moved onto the next—hearing Tifa, Red, and Aerith fall in behind him. Another trooper crumpled beneath his blade, and he felt a flicker of hope for the first time on this seemingly endless night.

"Cloud!" Tifa screamed just as he had knocked a third trooper into the dirt with a hard kick to his shin. He whirled in time to see his vision fill with the red glow of a Shrina helmet and the butt of a rifle.

There was no time to escape or dodge, or do anything but absorb the vicious blow to his temple. White flooded his world and he felt the ground beneath his hands as he toppled to his knees—sword tumbling out of his grip and into the fray. Through blurry eyes, he struggled to climb to his feet again before the trooper emptied a round in his skull. He heard the ominous click of the rifle, but before the thunder came a red flash swept by him and the trooper was blown backwards by a crackling wave of electricity.

The pain already fading, Cloud pushed himself upright and blinked at Reno's wild grin. "You okay there, Strife?" the ex-Turk asked, twirling his EMR with an air of smugness that grated on Cloud's frayed nerves.

"Fine," he muttered, trying not to contemplate how close he had come to dying. For some reason, it didn't feel like an unusual experience.

Reno nodded and rejoined the fight, planting a solid kick in the middle of an unsuspecting trooper's back. Cloud swept his sword off the ground and followed in Reno's wake of destruction, fighting his way to Tifa's side. The ranks of troopers had dwindled into single digits, but the remaining few were putting up a ferocious fight—almost as desperate as AVALANCHE.

"You okay?" Tifa echoed Reno's question as she landed a punch against a grunt's helmet hard enough to send cracks spider-webbing across the surface.

Cloud merely nodded, finishing the trooper with a wide slash down his back. There was nothing else to say, and so the two rebels threw themselves deeper into the fight, wanting to end it before backup had a chance to arrive. With the addition of a redheaded hurricane to their number, the troopers continued to fall like flies in spite of their frantic efforts to subdue the rebel group.

After another few minutes of chaos, the final trooper hit the dirt with a sound of finality—one of Yuffie's shuriken buried in his helmet—and silence once again draped itself over the black forest.

AVALANCHE paused to rally themselves, wiping blood and dirt off sweaty skin and trading glances of both weariness and triumph.

"Ayden," Tifa called, tugging off her bloodstained gloves, "you can come out now."

Ayden emerged cautiously from the trees, still clutching the knife Cloud had given him, and Cait Sith looked nervously around from his perch on the boy's shoulders.

"Is everyone okay?" Ayden asked as he stopped in the middle of the group, assessing them with troubled violet eyes, as though he expected one or more of them to collapse at any second.

Tifa nodded, patting his head gently and earning herself a slight scowl. "Yeah, we're all fine."

"Zack?" Aerith questioned with a pointed glance at Reno.

The victorious smirk on Reno's face faded into an almost worried frown. "I don't know."

Aerith glanced up the trail—a look of desperate concern painted across her delicate features. "We should go back for him." She took a determined step forward, but Reno grabbed her arm, pulling her gently to a stop. When she shot him an annoyed and puzzled look, he shook his head grimly.

"Sorry, Flower Girl, we have to keep moving. Shinra could send backup at any time."

Aerith struggled in his grip, trying to break free. "No! I can't leave him!"

Red approached them, looking a little devastated himself, but as solemnly resigned as Reno. "I am sorry, Aerith, but Reno is right. We must keep going."

"C'mon, Aerith," Yuffie chimed in with a voice full of fake cheer, "Zack is _really _strong. He'll beat those Shinra fleas into the dust with no problem! Besides, he's got Cid and Barrett and that creepy vampire guy with him. It'll be a piece of cake!" Aerith glanced at Yuffie with a sad smile, and Cloud knew the ninja's words would have been more encouraging if her eyes hadn't been so frightened.

His own chest was constricting at the idea of leaving Zack—Zack, his anchor, his touchstone, his last remaining tie to sanity, his best friend—but he had promised that he would look out for the others and his friend would never forgive him if he got them all killed. Wrenching himself away from the storm stirring in his soul to the world around him, he turned his attention to a distraught Aerith, who was now being comforted by Tifa.

"I'm sure Zack will be fine." Tifa didn't sound sure at all, but Aerith still gave her a wobbly smile.

"Please, Aerith," Cloud murmured, understanding her pain all too well, "I promised Zack I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

That, if anything, seemed to give Aerith back her resolve. "All right," she said with a soft sigh—her trembling hand running up and down the rough wood of her staff. "Let's go."

The group all but burst into movement with her quiet surrender, hurrying off of the forest trail into the thick, protective cover of the trees. They tried to make as little noise as possible traveling through the heavy undergrowth, not wanting more troopers to descend on them because someone had stepped on a branch.

Tifa, noticing that Ayden was falling behind, unable to keep up with the rapid pace of a group of seasoned warriors, slowed her step until she was even with him and held out her hand.

"Here, take my hand," she offered in an attempt to ease some of the terror flickering through his eyes. "It'll keep us from being separated."

"Oh, that is a grand idea," Cait Sith piped up from his spot on Ayden's shoulders—gloved fingers curled in the boy's blond hair.

Ayden slid his hand in hers after a moment of deliberation—fear apparently overriding the need to appear strong. He really was a lot like Cloud, as painful as that was to admit. Cloud at Ayden's age did occupy some of her best memories, but there was hardly time to dwell on the past. Present, adult Cloud was giving her a pointed look over his shoulder, silently urging her to hurry, so she gripped Ayden's hand tightly and picked up her pace, tugging him along as gently as possible.

Reno's voice echoed from somewhere to her left. "Hope they didn't find the Chocobos."

"I highly doubt it," Red responded from the same vicinity, "We hid them well."

"Shinra's persistent, like cockroaches. They just keep comin' back," Yuffie added, sounding like she was to the right.

"Please, all of you, be quiet," Cloud pleaded from the front of the group and everyone hushed almost immediately, sensing the urgency in the blond's voice.

Finally, after what felt like hours, and just as Tifa was ready to pick Ayden up and carry him on her back, no matter how damaging it would be to his pride, AVALANCHE stumbled into the clearing where they had secured the Chocobos what felt like days before. The great birds were still tethered to their trees, munching serenely on the plants at their feet, and a collective sigh of relief ran through the ragged group.

"We should stop here for a little while," Aerith suggested. "We're far enough away from the town. We could rest and wait for Zack and the others."

Reno looked ready to protest, but Tifa cut him off before he could start. "I think that's a good idea. We all need to catch our breaths." She glanced at Ayden worriedly, noting that the teenager was swaying on his feet and looking roughly five seconds away from collapsing.

"I agree." Red sat down, curling his tail around him for both warmth and to hide the flame that in the inky blackness of the forest burned as brightly as any signal fire. "A few minutes will not make much of a difference."

"Yeah," Yuffie flopped down next to him in a rather undignified heap, kicking up dirt and earning herself an annoyed glare from the graceful creature. "I'm wiped."

Sufficiently overruled, Reno found a tree to lean on with a roll of his eyes, but in the moonlight breaking slowly through the clouds, he looked as pale, bloodied, and exhausted as the rest of the group. Tifa, silently deciding that he was Gaia's biggest hypocrite, got Ayden situated next to Red. Once the boy was seated, Cait Sith climbed into his lap and curled up contentedly, looking remarkably like a real cat, if not for the gaudy crown and cape.

"How're you holding up?" She asked the wan teenager, running a reassuring hand through his dirt-streaked hair.

"I'm fine," Ayden replied swiftly, jerking his head out of her reach, but his voice shook and his hands trembled in his lap and he looked so _young _and terrified it nearly broke her heart.

"It's okay if you're not." Tifa squeezed his shoulder with a reassuring smile. His eyes softened slightly and she could see some of the walls shatter in the depth of violet.

"Thanks," he whispered, fingering his scarf. "Does it get better?"

Tifa felt the smile slipping from her face, picturing the ruins of Sector Seven, her village burning around her, Cloud's empty eyes—so void of the fire that used to sit deep inside them—and a thousand other moments that had left scars on her soul. When faced with the uncertain boy in front of her, she wondered what they had gotten him into.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, knowing that as much as she wanted to, she couldn't protect him from the truth.

He tightened his scarf and let his hand fall onto Cait Sith's head. "Oh." To her surprise, he gave her a thin, taped-together smile. "Well, I'll hope that it does."

She returned the smile and ruffled his hair, ignoring the indignant sound he made, before turning in search of Cloud. She found him leaning against a tree on the far side of the clearing, gaze fixed on the moon-drenched sky. His vest had fallen open sometime during the battle and in the silver light, her sharp eyes caught sight of the growing dark patch on his pale blue turtleneck.

"Cloud!" she cried in alarm, forgetting the need to be quiet, and crossed the clearing to his side in a few hurried strides.

He jerked his gaze to her as she reached him, and a hush fell over the clearing in the wake of her outburst. "Tifa?" He asked in quiet confusion, blinking owlishly at her.

"Your side!" She bent and let her fingers gently brush the drenched cloth, feeling blood coat her skin.

Cloud glanced down and surprise filled his face as Tifa held up her red-stained hand.

"Oh," he whispered, reaching down to brush a gloved hand across his side. When he raised it to his face, he seemed shocked by the sheen of blood glinting in the moonlight and Tifa felt a lead weight settle in her stomach.

"You can't feel it?" She asked through her dread.

Cloud shook his head, still dazed. "No. Not really."

Ignoring the pain and worry throbbing through her, Tifa reached for his sweater with careful hands. "You should at least let me look at it. So I can stop the bleeding."

A reluctant sigh fell from Cloud's lips, but he nodded, allowing Tifa to guide him toward a rock half buried in the dirt a few feet away. The others finally ceased their staring and returned to their previous activities and conversations, except Aerith, who hurried over to them with a small pouch tucked under her arm.

"Let me help," the Flower Girl offered, kneeling in the soft dirt next to Tifa as Cloud slowly pulled his sweater over his head, exposing pale, scar-mottled skin to the moonlight. "I have bandages and antiseptic here."

Tifa silently moved aside to give her room, gently taking the shirt from Cloud's limp hand and trying not to wince at the sight of the ugly gash running along his side. Aerith traced the wound with the experienced touch of a healer, humming softly to herself in concentration. After a tense moment she looked up with a tight smile.

"It looks like the bullet only grazed. I need to stitch it up, though."

"Don't bother with stitches," Cloud interjected, startling Tifa. "I heal really fast."

The matter-of-face statement, thrown so carelessly into the conversation, caused the worry to stir in her again, but she held her tongue. As much as she hated it, Cloud wasn't hers to protect and had never been.

Aerith frowned dubiously, looking as apprehensive as Tifa felt. "Are you sure? I don't want it to get infected, or open even further."

"It'll be fine," Cloud repeated, and where had such firm confidence come from? It didn't seem like the Cloud she knew, but now wasn't the time for probing questions. They only had a few more minutes before they had to keep moving or they ran the risk of discovery. "We don't have time for stitches anyway."

"Fine," Aerith surrendered reluctantly, rubbing antiseptic on the wound. Cloud didn't even flinch, just watched her wind bandages around his torso with a blank expression that scared Tifa.

As silence descended once again, the martial artist took time to study the blond in front of her, easily picking out the scars in the silver glow of the moonlight. There were far too many of them, crisscrossing his skin in spidery white lines. Some, lacing around his stomach and marring his shoulders, were still a pale, angry red, and it made her heart crack loudly in her chest. She wanted to run her hands over the marks until she somehow managed to erase the agony they represented.

Cloud raised his head and caught her gaze with his own curious one. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks at being discovered so blatantly staring, and averted her eyes just as Aerith tied the bandages off tightly.

"There, that should do it. But you have to promise to let me check the wound later, okay? Just to be sure."

Cloud nodded as he pulled the bloody sweater back over his head and slid his vest into place over his shoulders, fastening it in a series of nimble movements. "Okay. I promise. Thank you."

Boots crunched softly on the undergrowth and Tifa glanced up to see Reno standing less than a foot away—the mako in his eyes catching the light of the moon.

"I hate to break up the party," he drawled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants, "but we need to keep moving."

She wanted to hit him—punch him clean in the jaw for his repeated callousness. Was he capable of any human emotion at all? Honestly, she didn't know what Zack saw in him. And with that thought, a blade dug itself deep in her chest, because there had still been no sign of the lionhearted ex-SOLDIER and they were out of time.

And the Flower Girl next to her looked like someone had just burnt her heart to ashes.

"But … Zack?" She whispered—frail and desperate.

Reno, to her surprise, lowered his gaze to his feet in what seemed to be genuine grief. "I'm sorry, Flower Girl, but we can't wait any longer."

Tears welled in Aerith's green eyes but she nodded her head resolutely. "I understand," she croaked and rose, clutching her medical bag to her chest with white fingers. Reno watched her go—sorrow so evident on his face that Tifa thought she might be dreaming.

Cloud stood as well—the same desperation in his eyes. "We can't just leave him," he said—as broken and afraid as Aerith.

"We don't have a choice," Reno snapped, harsher now and closer to the former Turk Tifa knew and loathed. "If we stay, we're dead, too."

Cloud closed his eyes and seemed to draw on some hidden well of inner strength, for when he reopened them there was a layer of iron burning beneath the mako glow. "Alright, let's go, then."

Squaring his shoulders, he followed Aerith toward the Chocobos and the rest of the group who were hurriedly checking saddles and bags, ready to move out as soon as they heard the word. Halfway across the clearing, Cloud froze, whirling toward the thick stand of tress to his left with wide eyes.

Concerned, Tifa took a step toward him. "Cloud …"

He raised a hand, wordlessly asking for silence, and Tifa's battle instincts clamped her mouth shut and tightened her muscles instantly.

"I heard something," the blond muttered, reaching for the spare knife he carried on his belt.

The remaining members of AVALANCHE went on alert immediately, drawing any available weapons and following Cloud's gaze to the edge of the clearing. Tension hovered thickly in the air as Cloud stepped forward, raising the knife into a throwing stance. A loud crack echoed through the clearing—a boot crunching dry wood—and Cloud threw the knife, not bothering to wait until the intruders stepped into the light. Tifa could understand. If it was Shinra then better to gain the advantage of first strike.

Instead she heard a startled and familiar yell, followed by a loud, "Whoa!"

Aerith rushed forward, eyes bright with hope, as a tall figure emerged from the trees, clutching Cloud's knife in a gloved hand. Tifa felt a strange combination of relief and shock race along her veins, watching Zack Fair regarding them with stunned eyes.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked, holding up the knife.

"Zack!" Aerith cried and broke into a run, throwing her arms around his neck with enough force to knock him off balance. He swayed precariously for a moment before dropping the knife so he could embrace her fully, burying his face in her neck as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm here," he murmured gently. "I'm fine."

"We all are," Barrett added, entering the clearing with Cid and Vincent a few steps behind him—exhausted and bloody but apparently unscathed. "Nasty fight, though. Those Shinra fools put up a helluva fight."

"It is a relief to see you alive," Red said with a bow of his head and a small smile.

Cid ran a hand over his mouth. "Yeah. You too, I guess. Figured you were fine, though, when we didn't see any bodies."

"Aw, we knew you guys would make it," Yuffie added with a flourish of her hand. "You had the vampire with you."

Vincent blinked at her with what Tifa thought might have been a blend of confusion and annoyance. "I'm not a vampire."

The ninja waggled a finger at him. "You can keep saying that, but you ain't fooling me."

Vincent seemed to formulating some form of response, but Aerith's voice broke into the conversation.

"Don't ever make me worry like that again!" The normally gentle flower girl yelled, slapping Zack on the shoulder.

Zack rubbed the back of his head sheepishly—his soft grin an odd contrast to the blood on his face—and nodded. "Sorry, Aerith. I'll try not to."

Aerith smiled through the tears still running fast down her cheeks. "Good."

Cloud approached the couple—an odd combination of emotions running through his eyes.

"Zack," he murmured, looking torn between hitting the man like Aerith had done or hugging him. Neither course of action seemed to appeal to him so he stood awkwardly with his hands at his sides and his gaze fixated on a point in the space between them.

Love, protectiveness, and understanding filled Zack's gaze—proof of everything he and Cloud had survived together—and without a word, the ex-SOLDIER closed the distance and dragged Cloud into a firm hug.

"I said I would be fine, buddy, but I'm sorry I made you worry."

"I can't lose you again," Cloud said, a tremor running through the hand still hanging at his side. "I _need _you, Zack, I—"

"I know," Zack cut in, releasing Cloud in favor of gripping his shoulders tightly. "I _promise, _I will _never _leave you, buddy." He glanced sideways at Aerith, who watched with a teary smile. "Either of you."

Cloud's eyes roamed his face, searching for something Tifa couldn't define, before he nodded slowly. Zack smiled and gave his shoulders one last squeeze before stepping back. "I'm glad you're okay, Spiky."

"You too," Cloud replied—voice thick.

Zack wrapped an arm around Aerith and bent to place a lingering kiss on the side of her face. "I'm glad all of you are okay."

"We should get movin'." Barrett said, "Don't really wanna fight anymore Shinra cannon fodder tonight."

Zack straightened his shoulders with a brief nod—suddenly a leader again. "Everyone mount up. We're getting out of here." He paused, a struggle on his face, before steeling himself. "And split up. It'll make it harder for them to track us. Don't travel in groups bigger than two. We'll rendezvous in Rocket Town."

AVALANCHE followed his instructions without much protest, dividing themselves up into pairs. Cid and Yuffie departed first, galloping away into the ghostly forest without a backward glance. Reno moved to follow, guiding his Chocobo expertly through the underbrush, but he was intercepted by a narrow-eyed Barrett.

"I'm goin' wit' ya, Turk. Someone has ta keep an eye on ya," the huge rebel insisted with a scowl that dared Reno to challenge his decision.

The redhead merely rolled his eyes and swept his hand magnanimously in front of him, looking not unlike a king directing his subjects. "Be my guest."

Barrett snorted but urged his Chocobo forward with a swift kick and soon the shadows had swallowed them, too.

Tifa turned to Cloud, watching as he double-checked his saddle strap and bags with all the ease of a professional, even though he had only been riding the majestic birds for a few weeks.

"I'm with you, Cloud," she announced, because if she asked he would only blink at her in that confused, awkward way of his and trip over his words until she stepped in to smooth out the waters.

Besides, it was a long way to Rocket Town and they needed some time to talk.

Cloud nodded, not meeting her eyes, and mounted his Chocobo. Tifa hurried to finish readying her own mount before following suit. Once she had spun her bird toward the trees, she saw Cloud waiting on the line of the clearing—tired and pale but patient, as always. Hiding a sad smile, she spurred her Chocobo into a swift trot and followed him into the heavy trees.

After they had disappeared from view, Aerith squeezed Zack's arm and stepped away from him. "Take Ayden," she instructed. "I'll go with Vincent."

Zack opened his mouth to offer a violent protest, because being separated from her again might just break him, but she gave him a stern look he had come to recognize as roughly translating into "Shut up, Zack" or "Don't argue, Zack" so he snapped his mouth closed and nodded jerkily.

She smiled at him—soft around the edges and full of love and a hint of his own desperation—before closing the distance between them again so she could stand on her tiptoes and plant a firm kiss on the corner of his mouth. He embraced her tightly for a long moment, wanting to hold her forever, but Vincent, Ayden, and Red were all staring with a silent air of impatience, so he reluctantly released her.

"Be careful." It came out more pathetic begging than stern warning, but Aerith still nodded solemnly.

"Of course. You, too."

Zack helped her up onto her steed and Vincent climbed on behind her, gripping the reigns tightly and looking a little awkward on the large mount. Zack paused to wonder if the ex-Turk had ever ridden a Chocobo before, or how long it had been if he had. Deciding now wasn't the time, he pinned Vincent with his best intimidating look—which was hard because Vincent had the ability to intimidate him just by blinking slowly, but at least he tried.

"Take care of her."

Vincent dipped his head in gracious agreement. "I will."

Red stepped forward, fierce and determined. "I will accompany them for extra safety."

Zack grinned gratefully at the beast. "Thanks, Red."

Too quickly, they were gone into the darkness just beyond the clearing and Zack was all alone with a wide-eyed boy and a cat robot. Taking a deep breath to steady his frayed nerves, the ex-SOLDIER turned to face the teenager, who was staring at the last remaining Chocobo with unconcealed trepidation.

"Hey, Ayden," he greeted as gently as possible, knowing how nightmarish this whole thing must have been for the fairly sheltered boy.

"Zack," Ayden turned around and put the full weight of his large violet eyes on Zack. "I'm glad you're alive."

Zack clapped Ayden on the shoulder as he moved to double check the saddle straps and bridle. "Me too, kid."

Ayden smiled but offered no further commentary, merely wrapped his arms around himself and tried too hard to look brave.

"Have you ever seen a Chocobo before?" Zack ventured, realizing a topic change of some sort was in order and noticing the boy's rising nervousness around the large bird.

"I have!" Ayden shot back, every inch a defiant teenager, but deflated quickly, looking at the ground in embarrassment. "In a book."

Zack bit his lip to keep his laughter under control. It was probably best not to humiliate the kid he would be spending several hours of quality bonding time with. "Well, let's get you and Cait Sith mounted up."

Ayden nodded a little too quickly and went to retrieve the robot, who immediately began a spouting a stream of facts highlighting how safe Chocobo travel was in an attempt to ease the teenager's fear. Zack allowed himself a private chuckle. The little cat's efforts were endearing in a strange sort of way.

"Okay," Ayden said once he had Cait Sith securely tucked in his arms. "I'm ready."

It took a few tries but at last they were all in the saddle—Zack in the back, with Ayden and Cait Sith sandwiched in the front.

"Any last words for Nibelheim?" Zack asked, trying to understand how hard it must be to leave everything behind.

Ayden twisted in the saddle to glance back at the trees and the trail beyond them. His eyes darkened in the moonlight, looking almost black.

"Good riddance," he muttered emphatically and sounded so much like Cloud five years ago that Zack half wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Instead he replied with a fervent "amen" that earned him a small smile from Ayden and urged his Chocobo into a fast jog. Quickly, the trees closed in around them and there was nothing left but darkness and the looming uncertainty of the future.

* * *

Rufus's apartment was dark as Elena practically kicked open the door, trying frantically to keep her Turk cool even as Rufus's blood continued to soak slowly through her dress. She'd managed to stop it, for the most part, but he needed medical attention, and fast.

It didn't help that he was being a complete and total _idiot _about the whole thing, either.

"Just … set me down … on the couch," Rufus mumbled weakly, trying to stand up straight and avoid looking like he couldn't even walk without Elena to support his weight.

A _prideful _idiot. Even worse.

"You need to see a professional doctor," Elena groused, but moved toward the couch anyway because she had never denied a request or order from Rufus and she didn't think she would have the willpower to start now.

"You have … had medical … training, correct?" Rufus probed as she carefully lowered them onto the couch and flicked on a light. The last word morphed into a hiss of pain as he shoulder was jostled, but for the most part he remained stoic.

"Yes," Elena spat, channeling all of her frustration and worry into this pseudo-argument in the desperate hope she could reattach her head to shoulders and get her brain to function over the pounding in her heart. "But I can't give you the care you would get with a professional, sir. You _need _to go to a hospital and get treated properly!"

Rufus shook his head, pale but unmoving, and Elena knew she had lost long before she even began—as it always was with him. "No. Your … training will be … adequate." He weakly flopped his hand in the direction of the bathroom. "I have a … medical kit … under the sink."

Elena nodded and placed a gentle hand on his good shoulder, pushing him lightly back into the couch cushions. "I'll get it. For now, sir, stop overexerting yourself."

In a show of his exhaustion, Rufus didn't bother with a counter-statement, merely sank against the pillows with a faint nod—his blue eyes slipping closed even though his breathing remained too loud, too harsh, and too ragged for her liking. Stamping down her raging emotions to a safe place beneath her cold professionalism, Elena spun and marched toward the bathroom, turning lights on as she went.

She was half buried in the cupboard beneath the sink, rummaging around for the medical kit, when her PHS rang shrilly, shattering the tense silence and making her start so badly she banged her head on the top of the cupboard. Swearing, she fished the cursed device out of her dress and checked the name flashing on the screen.

Tseng.

With a few more curses, she answered the phone and continued her search. "Sir?"

"Elena," Tseng replied, sounding caught between relief and anger, "where _are _you?"

"The Vice President's apartment," she said, holding up the medical kit triumphantly.

"And why are you _there _instead of a _hospital?" _Now Tseng just sounded angry, but at least she was used to the tone.

"The Vice President requested it."

"The Vice President needs to be in a hospital!" Tseng yelled and she could imagine him, red faced and pacing on the other end of the phone, and knew she would get her pay docked for this, at the very least, but it wouldn't be the first time.

And there was one person she answered to above him.

"Sorry, sir," she said only somewhat sincerely, wobbling to her feet and silently cursing her stupid heels for the thousandth time that evening, "but I'm only following orders."

She had him there, and he knew it. With a sigh that sounded more like a loud explosion of air and static into the PHS, he relented. "Fine, Elena, but be careful. If he dies on your watch, there will be _consequences _to pay." Which meant she would die a rather painful death, but that wasn't going to happen, because _Rufus dying_ was _not _an option.

"I understand sir," she replied, pausing to kick off her heels with vindictive relish. "I will keep you informed of the situation."

"See that you do." Tseng's voice was nothing but layer after layer of sharp ice and he hung up with a loud _click. _

Scoffing quietly, Elena threw the PHS carelessly to the floor next to her heels and exited the bathroom at close to a sprint, darting over to the couch where Rufus lay entirely too still. His eyes fluttered open when she knelt in front of him and he regarded her with all the composure of a Turk. Impressive for an arrogant, spoiled, aristocrat—though she knew he'd always been _much _more than that mask belied.

"I think …" Rufus whispered, trying to sit up, "…it lodged in a … bone. My shoulder … feels broken."

"Sounds like a sound assessment, sir." Elena ignored her impulse to tell him to be quiet, knowing she would be ignored, in favor of putting together a syringe full of morphine. She held up the syringe for him to see as she rolled back his sleeve. "This is to dull the pain."

He nodded in understanding and lifted his good arm. She located a vein and plunged the syringe in quickly, emptying the contents into his system. He let out a faint sigh of relief and when he glanced back down at her, his eyes had already begun to fog over.

"We'll give it a minute to take effect," Elena said, rocking back on her heels. "In the meantime, let's get you out of this suit." She reached for his jacket, but to her surprise he lifted a hand and weakly captured her wrist.

"Elena …" he voice was rough, terrifyingly close to desperate, and Elena didn't think it was just from the pain. "…whatever happens tonight … stays between us. You can … tell no one … about this, understand?"

"Sir…" Elena floundered, confused and nervous at his uncharacteristic behavior.

"_Promise me," _he demanded in a tone she had never heard from him before.

"I promise," she replied thickly, seeing no other option.

He leaned back again with a heavy exhalation, apparently satisfied by her lackluster response. Once again readjusting her Turk mask on her face, Elena sank onto the couch next to him, sliding her arm beneath his shoulders to help him upright so she could remove his bloody suit jacket. It was a painstaking process, full of starts and stops and quiet, agony-laced gasps, but at last the jacket hit the floor and she began to work on his vest and shirt underneath.

"Sir," she ventured as she battled with his waistcoat, "you wear too many layers."

He chuckled weakly—still remarkably alert for the amount of morphine she had pumped into his system. "There's a reason … believe me." His voice was darkly humorous and she felt her heart trying to climb up her throat.

"Oh? What would that be?" She asked innocently as she freed him of the vest.

He gave her weak imitation of his usual smirk. "You'll see."

Not liking that response at all, she clawed at his white dress shirt, ripping the fabric to ease it away from his blood-soaked skin. Dropping the fabric to the floor, she took in one of the most horrifying sights she'd seen in awhile. His bad arm was covered in bandages that wound their way from wrist to shoulder and the once-white cloth was stained an ugly black and red from his still-weeping bullet wound. Black splotches littered his exposed neck and beneath his thin undershirt she could see even more soiled bandages wrapped around his torso.

Rufus Shinra had the Plague.

"_Sir…," _she whispered, feeling like someone had sucker punched her and closer to tears than she had been in over a decade.

He glanced down at his pale, disease-riddle skin and laughed with bitter mirth. "It's not as bad … as it looks, Elena."

Well, she doubted _that, _but her mouth wouldn't work properly so she couldn't utter the biting retort she wanted to. Instead, a choked sounding, "how long?" poured out instead.

"Could you … take care of the … bullet, first?" Rufus asked and still managed to sound sarcastic and biting through all the pauses and faint, heaving breaths.

Elena mentally kicked herself, then slapped herself upside the head for good measure. He was still bleeding slightly and there was a bullet lodged in his shoulder. How could she have forgotten about that? Tseng would have had her head had he been here. Glancing at Rufus and the black bandages, she was suddenly ridiculously grateful he was not.

"Sorry, sir," she apologized, reaching for the kit at her feet.

He shrugged his good shoulder, somehow more composed than she was, and closed his eyes again. Elena took a steadying breath and set to work.

Five awful minutes later, she had the bullet clutched between bloody tweezers and he panted against the couch cushions, skin laced with a sheen of sweat and eyes glassy.

"Worst part is over, sir," Elena murmured, trying to sound comforting as she deposited the bullet on the coffee table. "Now I just have to stitch up the wound."

"Wonderful," Rufus griped, fingers spasming against the couch and Elena regretted not putting him under for the procedure, even if he would have killed her once he woke up. It would have spared him a lot of pain and her a lot of hassle in the form of biting commentary and threats.

For all his skills as a fighter and his admirable composure in the face of pain and danger, Rufus Shinra could still complain better than anyone else she knew, except maybe Reno.

Biting back scathing retorts, and reminding herself that he was in pain and not thinking clearly, Elena ignored him as she carefully threaded a needle. Rufus eyed it darkly, but still shifted into a position that gave her better access to his shoulder. She sewed the wound shut with an efficiency only born of experience—thankful that Reno had such a tendency to get shot or otherwise injured on assignment and she'd gotten so much practice.

At last she tied off the final knot and sat back to admire her handiwork. "That should do it, sir. I just need to bandage it."

Rufus remained silent and still as she wound bandages tightly over the gauze pad she'd placed on the wound. Once she was finished she looked between the roll of bandages and the numerous stained ones still littering his skin.

"I'll just go ahead and change your other bandages." She made sure her voice left no room for argument—not that the stubborn fool on the couch couldn't manage to find some anyway—and Rufus nodded.

"Sure," he murmured tiredly.

She began pulling off the bandages, steeling herself against the black mucus that coated her fingers like syrupy ink. Underneath the bandages, the black marks stood out sharply against the white of Rufus's skin and there were so _many _it made the heart she wasn't supposed to have ache.

"How long?" she repeated as she began winding bandages down his arm again.

"How long since I've … had it or how long … do I have left?" Rufus asked, eyes fixed on his high ceiling.

"Both." She added an extra layer to the bandages so the black wouldn't soak through as quickly.

"I've had it for six months. I _might _have … a year left." Rufus sounded resigned, even defeated, and that scared her because even with the whole _world _against him, Rufus Shinra had never once backed down.

"So," she said, letting her terror rapidly morph into red hot anger that scorched the insides of her stomach and chest, "you weren't going to tell anyone? You were just going give up and die silently, is that it?"

It was one of the most disrespectful tones she'd ever used with him, but right now she wasn't a Turk and he wasn't the Vice President. Right now, she felt like a broken woman and he looked like a dead man who had somehow managed to keep on breathing. His eyes were still slightly unfocused from the morphine when he blinked down at her, but there was ice and fire and the weight of a hurricane hidden deep within the blue.

"Give up, no. Die silently … yes." His gaze dared her to challenge him, and for once she cast aside her mask and rose to meet him.

"Why? Why would you throw away your life like this? The Planet _needs _you, and you want to die alone in a room somewhere!"

Rufus laughed, but it was an empty, hollow sound that echoed in the stillness around them. "The Planet needs … me and the curse that is my family … gone forever," He weakly lifted his bandaged arm. "Why else … would I get … the Plague?"

"You are not your father," Elena replied coldly, tying bandages around his stomach. "You never will be."

"Doesn't matter," Rufus said with another chilling laugh. "Sins … of the father … and all that. To them … I will always be … like _him … _because I bear his name."

"But—"

"Besides," he cut her off, returning his eyes to some spot on the ceiling, "think of what … would happen if … word of this got out. My father already … considers me dangerous … a liability. If he found out … I have the Plague … he wouldn't hesitate … to kill me."

He was right. As much as she _hated _to admit it, he was right. He was going to save the world and then skip merrily off to die in peace while she got left behind to pick up the pieces her life would be left in without him.

She was going to lose him. He'd managed to find the one thing she couldn't protect him from and she was going to lose him.

"Elena?" He was looking at her again, but she couldn't lift her head and meet his curious stare. Her eyes would give away far too much. "Aren't you going to … yell or something."

She shook her head, and finally glanced up at him with a fake, wavering smile. "I think I'm still in shock. When I recover I'm sure I'll have plenty to say." Lie. Because words and yelling and admonishments for him to be more careful couldn't fix _this. _

He chuckled, and there was finally a small degree of warmth in it. "Fair enough, I … suppose."

"For now I will say this," she continued, because anger was rattling around inside of her again. Anger that she had stood by his side for close to a decade and he still hadn't _trusted _her with _this, _"you can trust me. You _need _to trust me. Because like it or not, you can't do this without me. I'm all you've got, Rufus Shinra, and you're all that's left for me, so if you need anything, or help, _ask _for it. Just … _ask for it." _Elena paused for breath and curled her fingers into trembling fists against her thighs. She'd revealed far too much, and she'd punish herself for it later, but at the moment she couldn't bring herself to care.

Rufus opened his mouth, closed it again, and repeated the process several times before he settled on a faint smirk and a nod of acceptance. "Very well, Elena." He didn't make any promises or offer any apologies, but Elena hadn't expected him to. His surrender was more than enough.

But he surprised her, like he always managed to, by leaning forward and carefully twining his fingers in the locks of hair that had fallen haphazardly from her bun. She jerked her gaze to him in shock and his eyes were as soft as his smile when he stared back.

"Thank you, Elena."

The gesture felt too intimate, too personal, and too _right _for words, so she merely reached up and closed her hand over his, feeling the coolness of his skin contrast with the pulsing warmth of her own.

"You're welcome, sir."

* * *

"Cloud? Can we talk?"

Tifa put forth the question hesitantly to the blond riding next to her in silence. After a mad dash down from the mountains of Nibelheim, they had slowed their Chocobos to a walk to give them a small respite. Overhead, the sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon. They were still a few hours away from Rocket Town and Tifa knew a better opportunity would probably never present itself.

Cloud glanced at her with a mixture of confusion and wariness that hurt, but nodded. "Sure."

Tifa sucked in a deep breath and tightened her fingers on the reigns, uncertain of where to begin. "I'm sorry," she blurted at last, remembering Cloud brushing past her in anger in Rocket Town and even though he had apologized, she still felt the chasm between them.

His mako eyes widened in surprise. "For what?"

A disbelieving laugh welled up in her throat at the realization that he was serious, and then tears pricked her eyes because he had _nothing _to apologize for and never did, and it would take a thousand apologies to make up for how horrible she had been to him.

"For keeping things from you that you have a right to know, and for being selfish."

Cloud still looked puzzled, blinking at her slowly in a manner similar to Vincent when he was uncertain about something. "Being selfish?"

Tifa sighed, brushing some bangs from her face. She could feel herself floundering, scared of how much she should reveal him, scared of what it might change. But his eyes were innocent and _blank _and if she couldn't give him this _one thing _then she was still the selfish girl she'd tried so hard to leave behind.

Digging around in her jacket, and ignoring Cloud's curious stare, she felt her fingers close around the worn envelope and she pulled it free carefully, leaning across the distance to hand it to Cloud. He took it hesitantly, staring down at the faded writing on the front without recognition.

"What's this?" he finally asked, looking up.

She smiled sadly. "You wrote it. It was the last letter I ever got from you. I've carried it around for five years, because I always hoped that somewhere out there, you were still alive."

Cloud's lips parted in shock and he jerked his head back down to the envelope, turning it over carefully in his hands. "Why did you keep it?"

Tifa shrugged. "To be honest, it didn't really say anything important. Just that you'd met a new friend who was in SOLDIER, training was going well, and the weather had been horrible." A pregnant pause, and she decided to let herself be vulnerable, just this once. "I think I kept it because it was the only thing I had left of you."

Several different emotions shifted across Cloud's face until he settled on curiosity. "Tifa … were we friends? In Nibelheim?"

And there was the question she'd been dreading—the question that would change everything. Cloud would realize how awful she'd been and without all those letters that built something between them, he would hate her. She'd always suspected he had hated her a little, or at least felt uncomfortable around her, being friends with her, because of the way she'd treated him when they were kids.

But she couldn't lie. Not now, and never to him. She wasn't that stupid girl anymore.

"No," she whispered, looking at the reigns clutched tightly in her hands simply because she couldn't bear to look at him. "We weren't."

"Oh," Cloud sounded off-balance again. "Then why…?"

She knew he meant the letters, why he had apparently wrote to her if they weren't friends. "I sent you a letter one day, and you sent one back, and then we just never stopped." She twisted the reigns absently in her hands, listening to her Chocobo's steady breath. "I like to think we became friends, through the letters, but we were never really friends before that."

She felt tears prick her eyes and bit her lip in anger. She didn't cry. She broke walls with her fists and she was _stronger _than this. But she could see Cloud's face under the moon as he stared at her with such boyish wisdom and honesty, choosing her to tell simply because he wanted _someone _to know where he'd gone, that he had a future. She could see the disappoint in eyes that didn't glow when she'd offered him nothing except a selfish wish to be saved if she should run into trouble.

And yet he'd promised her anyway, because that was _Cloud, _and now Cloud, but not _her _Cloud was sitting next to her, so horribly silent, and she didn't know what to do.

So she talked—let it pour out of her through the cracks in her walls. "You see, I was the mayor's daughter in Nibelheim and very popular with the other kids. I had a lot of friends and everyone liked me, probably because I was a way to get to my father. But you … you were different. You were always so quiet and grown up and _wise _and none of the other kids knew how to act around you. So they became afraid of you, and your mother … your mother had … mental issues—and everyone thought that you did, too, so they made fun of you for that. They knocked you around, insulted you, belittled you, made your life _hell, _and I never did a thing. Your mother kicked you out of your own house once and I _watched _you sit out there alone in the cold and _never did a thing. _

"I didn't even speak a word to you when you _saved my life _and my father blamed you for the accident. He _hurt you, _Cloud, and I _never did a thing! _I never even _spoke to you. _Until this one night you threw a rock at my window and asked me to come to the well. So I came and you told me, _me _who had never even acknowledged you, that you were leaving. That you were going to Shinra because your mother needed money for medication and even though she didn't even know who you were half the time, she was still your mother and you wanted to look out for her. You asked me to keep an eye on her while you were gone, and I think you were asking me to believe in you. You were lonely and scared and you wanted someone, _anyone _to comfort you, but I didn't even do that! I just made you promise that _you _would _protect me _if I was ever in trouble. I couldn't even tell you good luck. And you _promised. _

"You promised and then you wrote me back when I wrote you and you never said anything about how I _never did a thing _for you, and … and … then you came back … and I spoke with you and didn't even know … didn't even know it was you! I had written you a thousand letters, but I couldn't even recognize you. And then … and then I thought you had _died, _and it was over, I would never get a chance. But when you showed up at my door … and you didn't remember … didn't remember anything, I decided that I would be selfish and get my second chance at your expense!"

She stuttered to a stop, chest heaving, and it was only when she noticed her vision had blurred did she feel the wetness coursing down her cheeks. She wiped at her face with a trembling hand, and tried to stop the hurricane inside of her. Her Chocobo was still ambling forward, and she focused on the rhythm of its walk—anything to keep from looking over at Cloud.

For a long moment, there was nothing but stunned silence and she could feel Cloud's presence like a lead weight—hear his breathing that sounded as ragged as her own. She inhaled and held, waiting for the words of shock, anger, or rejection, because he had the _right. _

"Tifa…" he said at last and sounded like he had broken.

She whirled to face him and saw him staring at her with blindsided, shattered eyes. He was shaking—lost and unbalanced and _scared. _She wanted nothing more than to take him in her arms and apologize for ever hurting him, and then tell him that she loved him and had for over five years—that if her house hadn't burnt to the ground she would have carried every single one of his letters with her forever.

But she couldn't say that, or do that, because this wasn't her Cloud, and she had no idea what kind of Tifa she was to him.

"Tifa…" he repeated hoarsely, and seemed to forget how to say anything else.

"You can hate me," Tifa replied quietly. "You don't have to be fine with this, Cloud. It's okay if you aren't."

Cloud suddenly jerked his mount to a stop, eyes focused on the tree-dotted plain in front of him, though Tifa sensed he was looking inward.

"Cloud…?" She probed, because he was scaring her, and this was _not _the reaction she had pictured. She desperately hoped she hadn't broken him more than he already was.

"I don't hate you." His voice was soft and raspy—shredded with emotion she didn't know how to name. "I don't think I ever hated you."

"Why not?" It was a stupid question, because this wasn't _her _Cloud, but her heart, so aching behind its steel walls, demanded it.

Cloud shrugged, finally twisting to stare at her with newfound revelation in his eyes. "I think … it's because you were important to me." He looked like there was more he wanted to say, but he clamped his lips shut and hunched down in the saddle again—shy and timid, and not unlike the boy who had never hit back.

Her feet hit the ground and she was almost to Cloud's Chocobo before her brain caught up. She halted next to his leg, looking up at him in uncertainty and wavering between wanting to give comfort and that selfish, little girl part of her that wanted him to hold her and tell her things would work out between them.

But he wasn't her Cloud and she didn't need saving anymore, so she reached up and put a hand on his leg, just above his knee. He started and gaped down at her in baffled shock.

"Tifa…?" She knew they didn't have time to stop, but as he slid out of the saddle and faced her, she decided she didn't care.

With a shaky breath, she wrapped her arms around him, like she had done in Nibelheim—offering the comfort she had once denied him. This time he was too stunned or tired or something to tense up and she felt his breath against her neck as he pressed his face into her skin. He was shaking beneath her fingers, or maybe that was her, but that didn't matter as she rested her cheek against his wild hair and held on for dear life, letting him lean on her.

Or maybe they were holding each other up.

"You're right," Cloud whispered into her neck. "I'm not fine."

She swallowed her tears, and ran her fingers through his hair. "Alright, Cloud, alright."

He would need time, she told herself, to process all of this. He was in shock right now, and these kind of things were slow and painful to work through.

But as she clung to him, feeling his fingers dig roughly into her back through the thick fabric of her jacket—the letter crackling between them, clutched tightly in his other hand, and the stars cold and aloof overhead—she wondered if any of them would be fine again.

* * *

**Coming up next-**Interlude time! We are done with the Nibelheim arc (thank _God.) _

**EDIT: I have posted a poll to my profile concerning the next interlude. Please vote! **_  
_


	39. Interlude: Come What May

**I am an EPIC FAILURE. I can't believe I kept you guys waiting for almost SIX MONTHS for a freakin' interlude. I'm really, really, really, really sorry. Reality, as always, tends to completely and utterly ruin my life. :/**

**A Zack and Cloud background piece won the poll, so hopefully this will live up to everyone's expectations. If not, well, my bad? **

**Feedback of any kind is always appreciated.  
**

* * *

When Zack first met Cloud it was hardly spectacular. The kid was pale as a ghost and just as shy, shuffling his feet incessantly and keeping his eyes glued to the ground as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He barely spoke and when he did it was in weak whispers that faded as soon as they left his lips. Loud, boisterous Zack couldn't fathom how someone could talk so quietly and so easily fold in on himself until he became invisible.

Within the first five minutes, Cloud tripped over his words ten times, apologized for breathing Zack's air, and generally looked seconds from passing out.

Within the first five minutes, Zack decided Cloud was one of the most interesting people he'd ever met.

* * *

Angeal told him that looking after Cloud was training—a chance for him to practice his skills at being a teacher. Zack jumped at the chance, wanting to prove himself just as much as we fascinated by the talented, terrified kid abruptly thrust into his care. In fact, he was so wrapped up in helping Cloud tackle his vast array of personal issues that he didn't notice Angeal drifting away until it was too late.

As he knelt next to Angeal's body in Modeoheim, Cloud a silent shadow at his back, he realized that had been exactly what Angeal wanted: to slip away and die in peace, without breaking his heart.

Well, Angeal failed.

The thought echoed like a bell toll through his heart as he screamed up into the rain, letting loose some of the agony tearing him to pieces. He should have been able to stop this. How could he ever become a hero if he couldn't even protect the people that he loved?

A gloved hand landed on his shoulder, abruptly cutting off his yelling and startling him back down to Earth. Jerking, he locked on Cloud's solemn eyes. It was the first time the blond had ever initiated physical contact. He didn't say anything, didn't have to. His sorrowful gaze said it all.

Spinning around fully, Zack caught him in a desperate hug, burying his face in the blond's shoulder as he wept out some of his grief. Cloud's hands were feather light against his back, but still enough to anchor him, to remind him that he wasn't alone.

Maybe, maybe, Angeal hadn't failed after all.

* * *

"I'm not sure about this," Cloud muttered, clutching his rifle tightly as he glanced around at the bare walls of the simulation room.

"It'll be fine," Zack reassured him, beeping in commands on his PHS. Cloud had more talent than he gave himself credit for, and it was time he realized that.

"But isn't this a SOLDIER training program?" Cloud's voice was still barely more than a whisper, but it grew stronger every day. The kid was going to make it, Zack was sure of that.

"Exactly," he replied, grinning widely at his trainee and friend. Cloud's eye widened with something close to panic as Zack fitted the training visor over his eyes.

"Wait!" He gasped as the simulated world began to build around him, separating him from Zack.

"Just make it to the other side of the city!" Zack called before he retreated to the secured control room.

It was only a level program, designed for cadets. Cloud should be fine, Zack assured himself as he took a seat, set the timer, and waited for Cloud to finish the mission.

Half an hour in, Reno strolled into the room, looking bored, as usual.

"Hey," Zack barked. "A training session is going on. You can't just interrupt."

"Relax, Fair," Reno said with a dismissive wave of his hand, plopping down into the seat next to Zack. "Angeal's death really made you boring."

Zack gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remember that Reno was this blunt with everyone, and really didn't mean any insult. Zack stilled wanted to bash his head against the control panel. Angeal was still a bleeding wound on his soul and he wasn't sure when it would finally heal, or if it ever would.

"What are you doing here, Reno?" Zack bit out. "This floor belongs to SOLDIER."

"Is that the kid who apologizes for breathing people's air?" Reno asked, ignoring him as he leaned forward in his seat, peering into the simulation room.

"Yeah." Zack forced some of his irritation away. "I'm running him through a basic SOLDIER training mission."

"Oh, so you know about the Sephiroth glitch?" Reno kicked his feet up on the control board, narrowly missing a few switches and put his arms behind his head.

Zack frowned. "The what?"

"The Sephiroth glitch. If you've trained here, you've probably run into it."

Zack flashed back to one of his many training missions with Angeal—the one that ended in a desperate duel with the silver-haired general and Angeal jumping in to save his butt, before lecturing him on dreams and never letting them go.

"I fought Sephiroth but I thought that was just something Angeal programmed in," he said hesitantly, a sense of dread stirring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Nope, that's a glitch," Reno replied cheerfully. "Reeve programmed Sephiroth into a Turk training mission a few years back, to shake things up a bit. Except he kinda got stuck and now he pops up at random times to scare the crap out of people. And fight them. And usually kill them." The redhead chuckled grimly. "Me and Elena KO'd really badly the first time we ran into him."

The butterflies were wildly flapping their wings. "So, he only appears in upper level programs?"

"Nope." Reno still sounded _way _too cheerful. "He creamed a bunch of cadets last month. You should tell Blondie down there to watch out."

Zack cursed, scrambling to pull his PHS out of his pocket and end the simulation before he scarred Cloud for life. Just as he flipped it open, the crack of the training gun echoed one final time and a voice chimed: "_Simulation complete." _

Zack looked up in shock, watching as the rifle fell from Cloud's shaking fingers and the blond cadet sunk to his hands and knees in the middle of the room. Reno and Zack exchanged a stunned glance.

"Did he just…" Reno trailed off in wonder and Zack all but flew from the room and over to Cloud's side.

"Cloud?" He ventured hesitantly, hovering next to the younger man but afraid of touching him.

For a long moment, only Cloud's labored breathing punctured the silence. Then, the blond whispered, shaky and so soft that Zack almost didn't hear. "Sephiroth..."

Shock trilled along Zack's spine. "You … you ran into Sephiroth?"

"I … I shot him." Cloud's shoulders trembled with the shock that leaked from his voice. "In the head."

"Holy crap," Reno spoke from the doorway of the simulation room, staring at the pair on the floor with wide, admiring eyes. "You're a freakin' genius, Blondie."

Zack instinctively wrapped around an arm around Cloud's shoulders—wary of the thoughtful note to Reno's tone. "You can't have him," he barked out, glaring at the Turk over Cloud's shoulder.

Reno raised his hands innocently. "Easy, Fair. I was just praising the kid. No need to get all territorial."

"Did I pass?" Cloud murmured, putting a halt to their half-hearted argument.

Zack looked down at him, still trying swallow down his awe. "Yeah, kid. With flying colors."

Cloud gave him a wobbly, but brilliant smile that warmed Zack's heart. But beneath the glow was a sense of dread he still couldn't shake—the notion that this was a sign of things to come.

Which was stupid and superstitious, so he pushed it aside.

* * *

Cloud suffered from nightmares. Bad ones.

After the fifth night in a row that the kid woke up screaming on their mission to Junon, Zack crawled over to his side and enveloped him in a comforting hug. Cloud stiffened in his arms, but didn't pull away and that had to be progress.

Zack didn't know what tormented Cloud so badly, and he didn't have the courage to ask. Cloud held everything close to him and wrapped it up in iron with locks and keys to boot. There was never any easy way to get him to open up, so Zack stopped trying.

But he could be there for Cloud, always. No matter what pains the future might hold.

* * *

"Dreams?"

"Yeah, dreams. Everyone has them, Spiky."

"I wish you would stop calling me that."

"Why? It suits you. And stop ignoring my question."

"I don't know…"

"How can you not know what your dreams are?"

Cloud frowned, sitting up in his sleeping roll and staring at Zack with quiet intensity. Everything about Cloud was intense, from his troubles to his determination to succeed.

"What's so important about it? They're just dreams."

Zack sat up, too, reaching out to smack Cloud on the back of the head. Cloud gaped at him, blinking in surprise as Zack leveled him with his best "instructor's glare." Angeal had had it down to an art form, but he could never manage to be stern enough. He still felt too young, too naïve, too inexperienced, to look at Cloud like that.

But he still tried. After all, this was a serious matter.

"Dreams are important, Spiky. Really important. They give us something to live for."

Cloud still looked skeptical. "And they just break us when they don't come true."

Zack didn't know whether to be thrilled that the cadet was actually arguing with him, or frustrated at his pessimistic view on life. "You have the power to make your dreams come true."

Cloud's eyes were haunted. "Not all dreams."

Curiosity welled up in him again. There was so much to Cloud that he couldn't see—layers and layers buried beneath the quiet steel front the cadet presented to the world. He wanted to ask, wanted to offer up an ear for the blond to pour out all those layers to, but he was young and uncertain.

And he'd always been a coward when it came to Cloud. So he bit his tongue and silently vowed to get the blond to believe in things like hope and dreams and a brighter future.

* * *

Cloud's back pressed up close against his and the blast of the rifle roared through his sensitive ears like a freight train. He blocked it out as best he could, spinning them so that he could slash at one of the monsters that looked like it had been raised from the pits of Hell.

"Why are there so many of them?" Cloud yelled above the din of screeching and rifle shots.

Zack shook his head, ducking a swiping claw and burying his sword in the creature's chest. "Because Genesis is a freakin' psycho!" He yelled back.

Cloud spun around, shooting one of the creatures that was swooping in toward Zack. The SOLIDER jumped out of the way as the body plummeted down to the Junon road a few feet from their position. He pivoted on the ball of his foot to behead yet another monster that was attempting to dig its claws into Cloud's helmet. Cloud carelessly kicked the severed head out of his way, keeping his eyes locked on the infested sky.

"Speaking of Genesis, have you seen him?" the trooper asked as he reloaded his rifle and clipped the wing of another monster, sending it spiraling into the ocean far below them.

"No," Zack spat, dodging a pair of grasping claws. "We've lost Hollander, too."

"Great," Cloud grumbled, dropping to one knee and braining a low flying monster with the butt of his weapon, hissing as the thing dragged its claws across the front of his helmet, scouring the metal.

Zack paused for a second to marvel at the progress the trooper had made in just six short months, both as a warrior and as a man. The once shell of a boy now possessed a fire in his eyes that didn't allow him to back down from anything. He moved through his enemies with a calm that would have been beyond his grasp at the beginning and he stood up straight, looking others right in the eye instead of fixing his gaze on his feet.

Zack was proud of him. Insanely so.

"We'll get them," he told Cloud with confidence.

Cloud wrenched the damaged helmet from his head, casting it aside and gracing Zack with a dubious look. "The odds aren't exactly in our favor right now, you know."

Zack shrugged, feeling a grin starting to pull at the corners of his mouth. "Then we'll make new odds."

They were a team, friends, _ZackandCloud, _and in this moment—as Cloud smirked softly, eyes ablaze—that was all that mattered.

* * *

"Easy!" Zack yelped, jumping to help Cloud steady the sword in his grip. The blond paused to wipe a sheen of sweat from his forehead and grimaced.

"How do you fight with this thing?" He asked breathlessly, struggling beneath the weight of the Buster Sword.

Zack laughed. "Well, having mako in your blood really helps."

Cloud didn't join in. "Mako…" he murmured, turning the sword carefully in his hand—a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've heard it's poison."

Zack hesitated. He'd been determined to keep bolstering the kid's dreams of becoming a SOLDIER, while simultaneously shielding him from some of the horrors the program hid beneath its promising exterior. Those horrors had long ago shattered his own dreams—the ideal of SOLDIER as a band of heroes that had the power to save the Planet.

Except … Cloud wasn't Zack, and Cloud didn't seem to have those dreams. He faced down SOLDIER with an air of grim determination. As though he already knew what was waiting for him, had accepted that fact, and was pushing on regardless.

"It can be," Zack said at last, aware of Cloud's questioning eyes on him. "It's been known to have … side effects."

"Madness," Cloud whispered, staring at his reflection in the shiny surface of the sword. For a second, Zack saw Angeal—full of sorrow and misguided belief that he was a monster without hope of redemption. It echoed like an earthquake across his soul.

"Not … Not always, Spiky…" he trailed off, out of arguments as Cloud looked up, a knowing look in his eyes.

Not for the first time, Zack wondered exactly what he was leading Cloud into.

* * *

A hand tangled in the back of his sweater, wrenching him back from the railing he had been about jump over to follow Genesis into the bowels of Junon. "Stop!"

"Let go, Spiky! I can't let him get away!" Zack cried, trying to dislodge Cloud's grip.

"He's already gone!" Cloud argued back, sinking his heels into the deck in an attempt to counter some of Zack's mako strength. "All you're going to do is fall to your death."

Zack hissed in frustration. "I'll be fine! You're not in SOLDIER. You don't know exactly what we're capable of!" And, to back up his words, he shoved at the trooper holding him place, hard. Cloud hit the deck roughly with a startled cry.

Zack froze, foot poised on the railing, feeling horror begin to creep cold fingers down his spine.

_What did I just…?_

Cloud propped himself up on one elbow, staring at Zack with a mixture of anger and _fear. _

_Cloud, I'm … _

"Go, then," Cloud murmured, lowering his gaze to the deck. The simple gesture, a glimpse of the stammering boy Zack had met almost a year ago, hit him like a punch in the gut.

"Cloud, I have to save him," he pleaded. "I can't lose him like…"

_Like Angeal. _But Cloud already knew that.

"I understand." Cloud didn't look up.

Zack pushed down the sickness bubbling in his stomach at how awful he was treating a friend, along with the screaming of his conscience, and hoisted himself up on the railing, searching for a safe spot to land after he made his jump.

Behind him, he heard Cloud hiss in pain as he struggled to rise from the deck. It was too much.

He let go of the railing and was at Cloud's side in seconds, offering a hand to help him up. Cloud flinched at his touch and rose to his feet on his own—still stubbornly refusing to meet Zack's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Spiky," Zack said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Heroes shouldn't leave their friends behind, either. Especially when the friend is right."

"I forgive you," Cloud replied, but his voice was still stiff and cold around the edges.

Crap. Zack had definitely screwed up. Badly.

"It won't happen again." The words left in a rush, full of his desperate need to fix things between them.

Cloud finally lifted his eyes, searching Zack's face for something. "Just be careful, Zack. Please."

Another shiver ran down Zack's spine. A sense of foreboding that lingered in the air around them with Cloud's words.

* * *

"Are these real flowers?" Cloud traced the petals reverently, picking up one of the yellow and white flowers from the vase on Zack's table and twirling it slowly between his fingers.

"Yep!" Zack chimed from the kitchen, smiling fondly at the flowers as he thought of the girl who had thrust them into his arms yesterday.

_So your apartment won't be so lonely. _

Man, Aerith was something else.

"I thought they didn't grow in Midgar."

"Just one place." Zack entered the living room with a glass of water for his flowers, tipping the contents gently into the vase as Cloud set the flower back.

"Are these from her?" the blond asked. "The girl you've been seeing?"

"Aerith. Yeah."

"Aerith. She sounds nice."

Zack laughed with giddy contentment, slinging an arm around Cloud's shoulders. "She's amazing! So pretty and nice and just … amazing. She grows these flowers all by herself and I bought her a ribbon for her hair and someday I'm going to take her to see the sky and…" he trailed off with a furious blush, suddenly realizing that he probably sounded like a lovesick sap.

Judging from the small smile on Cloud's face, he most definitely did.

"It sounds like you're in love." He'd never heard the trooper's voice so teasing before.

With a playful scoff, he pushed Cloud back a step and rolled his eyes. "Please. It's too soon for that." But he could feel the blush heating on his cheeks and Cloud laughed softly, amusement lighting up his eyes.

"Right," he teased further.

Zack set aside his surprise at Cloud's behavior. "I'll take you to meet her."

Cloud glanced at him, seemingly taken aback. "Really?"

Zack slapped him on the back and ruffled his hair, laughing at his grimace. "Of course! The best friend has to meet the girlfriend, it's … a tradition or something." He laughed again, but stopped when he realized Cloud was regarding him with stunned eyes.

"I'm … your best friend?"

Zack almost laughed again, but held it in, realizing what a big deal this must be for Cloud. He still didn't know much about Cloud's childhood—the blond refused to talk about it—but he was certain it had been an achingly lonely one.

"Yeah. You are," he said simply.

Cloud's smile was blinding.

* * *

Zack fluttered the piece of paper in Cloud's face, brushing it against his nose until his eyes fluttered open. He jerked in shock at the thing obscuring his vision, nearly falling off his bunk in the sick bay. Zack stepped back with a laugh, grinning when Cloud scowled at him.

"Guess what this is?" he flapped the paper again, trying to contain his excitement.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Cloud grumbled, wiping sleep from the corners of his eyes.

"Around one in the morning. I had to sneak passed the freaky Dragon Lady nurse. Guess!"

Cloud shrugged, repositioning himself on the bed so that his broken arm was more comfortable. Zack felt a small pang of guilt for not asking about how he felt first. That had been a pretty nasty break. But, he was too excited to think about much else than the news he was bringing—news that would most likely cheer Cloud up anyway.

"You're no fun," the SOLDIER pouted when Cloud didn't offer anything else.

"I'm on painkillers in the sick bay for my broken arm," Cloud argued back.

"Eh, details." Zack waved his hand and plopped down on the edge of the bed, holding up the paper. "Since you're being a spoilsport, I'll just tell you. This piece of paper, my friend, is a formal acceptance letter to the SOLDIER program.

Cloud's eyes widened and for a moment a war waged in them, between elation and trepidation. Elation won and a slow, marveling smile spread across his face. "I … I got in?"

Zack ruffled his hair affectionately. "Of course you did. You had me as a teacher."

Cloud batted his hand away, still wide-eyed and stunned. "I can't believe I got in."

Zack softened and laid a reassuring hand on Cloud's good shoulder. He could tease the blond more later. "You deserve it, Spiky."

Cloud shook his head and as Zack watched, he pulled himself together, shoving his emotions down behind a calculating wall. "When does the program start?

_He really would have made a great Turk. _Zack shivered at the thought, hurriedly pushing it away.

"In three months. Right after your arm is healed and we go on a mission."

"A mission?" Cloud arched an eyebrow. "What kind of mission?"

Zack lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. "Don't know. I'll update you as soon as I have more details. For now, rest up and focus on not falling off any rooftops." He nudged Cloud with a teasing smile.

Cloud sunk down onto the pillows, shame coloring his cheeks. "Wasn't my fault," he muttered.

"Whatever you say, Spiky. Whatever you say."

Cloud hit him with a pillow.

* * *

"Nibelheim? That's where we're going? _Nibelheim?" _

Zack watched Cloud pace around his living room with a puzzled frown. He didn't see why Cloud was so worked up. From what little of the briefing he'd read, Nibelheim seemed like a sleepy little mountain town where the most interesting thing to do was watch the grass grow. Nothing to worry about at all.

When he relayed these thoughts to Cloud, he got a glare that could've frozen Hades over in return.

"What's wrong? You have something against sleepy mountain towns? I admit they're a little boring, but…"

"I grew up there."

Zack stuttered to a halt, gaping at Cloud. "Y-you … you did?" He hadn't known that, he realized with a pang of hurt. Two years of friendship and Cloud still didn't trust him enough to share the place of his birth.

As if he'd read his thoughts, Cloud's face shaded with guilt. "Sorry I never told you. It's just…" he took a shaky breath, staring at the floor. "…it doesn't have good memories for me."

"None at all?" Zack asked in surprise, remembering his own sleepy little town. Gongaga had stifled him, but he still missed his mother's cooking and his father's warm smile.

Cloud's gaze was haunted in the way it always was after his nightmares. A few pieces fell into place with horrifying clarity, and something like heartache radiated through his chest.

_Oh, Cloud. _

"None," Cloud said shortly.

Zack sighed and swiftly tugged Cloud into a hug. "I'm sorry, Spiky," he murmured into Cloud's hair.

"My mom was crazy." Muffled by the fabric of his sweater, Zack nearly missed the confession.

"What?" He gasped, stepping back to look at Cloud in alarm.

Cloud glanced away, jaw tensing with anxiety. "She was the town lunatic. Everybody … everybody was afraid of her, _hated _her. Thought she was possessed by … by the devil or something. And they thought I was the same, tainted by her, so…" He choked on another rattling breath and his fingers curled into tight fists at his sides.

At a loss for words, Zack pulled him into another hug, seeing more of the picture, and feeling his heartache grow.

"I don't want to go back there, Zack," Cloud whispered brokenly. "I never want to go back there again."

Zack sighed again, releasing Cloud and giving him a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Spiky, but we have to. It's from the big wigs and _Sephiroth _is even accompanying us. We can't refuse. Besides, you do well on this mission and you're in the SOLIDER program." He punched Cloud's shoulder gently, trying for reassuring.

The haunted look still filled Cloud's gaze. "There's nothing good in that town, Zack."

Zack felt a cold spike of apprehension, but still cobbled together another smile. "We'll be fine, Spiky. I promise."

* * *

**Famous last words, eh, Zack? **

**COMING UP NEXT-**more snooping and thievery.


End file.
